Trust Me (58 page)

‘But you haven’t even tried,’ she said in bewilderment. ‘You haven’t even given me a real kiss since we got married.’

There was a long silence. ‘I can’t bring myself to,’ he said eventually.

Dulcie slumped back on the pillow, utterly perplexed. Looking back, she could now see for herself that he’d never really ever wanted to indulge in anything physical, kissing and cuddling was always prompted by her. Betty had said that passion should be there from the first kiss, and it hadn’t been, she’d just been too dumb or innocent not to recognize it wasn’t. But he had been passionate that night she came back from Perth, and on other occasions since. She thought about that and remembered how he always stopped suddenly. Was that what he meant by
he couldn’t bring himself to
?

‘Are you a poofter?’ she asked.

He sprang up in bed at that, his face purple with anger. ‘You what! Strewth, Dulcie, what a thing to say!’

‘Then what
are
you, Ross?’ she said scornfully. ‘I’ll tell you what I think you are! A bloody liar. You made me believe this was going to be happy ever after. You begged me to marry you when I got back from Perth. You said you needed me and wanted me. Why did you say those things if you didn’t mean them?’

‘I do need you, Dulcie,’ he said, his voice quivering. ‘You don’t know how much.’

Dulcie felt as if her whole world was falling apart. She’d known this man for over four years, she thought she really knew him. Was this what Betty had been afraid of when she spoke of his coldness?

She switched off the light, got out of bed, pulled on a housecoat over her nightdress and went outside on to the veranda. Ross’s cigarettes and whisky were on the table. She pulled the stopper and took a long swig, she hated the taste and it made her throat burn, but she wanted to be anaesthetized. She took another, then another, and was just on the point of throwing the bottle back into the room at him when she stopped herself.

‘You can’t even do that,’ she thought scornfully. ‘Afraid of upsetting the landlady and even him. God, you are so bloody pathetic!’

She slumped back on the couch and defiantly lit one of his cigarettes. Images of Ross kept sweeping through her mind, on his motorbike, milking the cows, driving the combine harvester, heaving the sacks of grain on to the back of the truck. Everything about him was so masculine, he could build walls, dig dams, cut down trees, mend motors. She’d believed he could do anything, she thought he was just like Bruce, a kind, decent and hard-working man with whom she could be happy for ever.

What was she going to do now? If she left him here and went home on the train alone she would be forced to explain. But it wouldn’t just be to Bruce, May was there too. She couldn’t bear the thought of that. Besides, how would Bruce manage without Ross? He did the work of two other men, everyone had always said that. There really was no choice but to go home tomorrow as if everything was fine.

She cried for a little while but she was reasoning with herself. If she could just forget that she’d been cheated by Ross, looking at it logically, if she hadn’t ever been made love to, how could she miss it? Ross would still be her friend, the only difference being married made to people’s lives was that they lived under the same roof and slept in the same bed. She remembered one of Granny’s sayings,
Time sorts out most things.
Perhaps it would sort this one out too.

She went back into the room. There was enough light to see he was still awake, lying there waiting for her, his eyes glimmering in the dark like a cat’s.

‘What have you decided?’ he asked.

‘That we stay together and try to work it out. So maybe you don’t want to make love to me –’

‘I do,’ he interrupted her. ‘I just can’t.’

Dulcie sighed, took off her housecoat and got into bed. ‘Maybe that will change. We’ll just go along as we are now and see what happens.’

‘But how can I expect you to live like that?’ he asked. ‘It isn’t fair.’

‘I don’t know any different, do I?’ she pointed out. All at once she was bone-weary, she didn’t want to talk or think about it any more. ‘Now, let’s go to sleep because I’m tired.’ She turned out the light and lay down to show this really was the end of the conversation.

But she could feel him lying there tense and unhappy and her sympathy was aroused. ‘I love you, Ross, however you are,’ she whispered to him in the darkness.

He let out a big sigh and his hand reached out for hers under the covers to squeeze it. ‘I’m sorry, Dulcie,’ he whispered. ‘You deserve more.’

Ross fell asleep long before she did. She lay there listening to his breathing and to the sound of the fan spinning above their heads.
You deserve more.
She’d had that said to her almost as many times as
Trust me,
and it sounded just as insincere. Perhaps the truth of the matter was that she’d been singled out at birth for disappointment and sadness. She supposed she would just have to learn to live with it.

Chapter Twenty

‘You crook, Dulcie?’ Bruce asked, giving her a sharp look. ‘You can go back to bed if you are. I’m sure May won’t mind me taking her to the station on her own.’

It was Dulcie’s fifth day back at the farm, and she had just finished clearing away the breakfast things. May was in her old bedroom packing her case.

‘I’m fine,’ Dulcie smiled weakly. She knew she looked pale and had dark circles under her eyes. ‘It’s just so hot at nights in the caravan, that’s all.’

She had braved it out, managed to convince them all that she and Ross had had a wonderful time in Kalgoorlie and she hadn’t a care in the world. May’s presence helped in this deception for she tended to monopolize conversations at mealtimes, each afternoon she and Dulcie went to the beach together, and in the evenings they all went out to the pub.

May was a tonic for everyone, she was effervescent, chatty, fun and daring. She had one of the new bikini swimsuits, and the sight of her exposed tummy had raised the eyebrows of all the older people of Esperance. John had taken her to the Friday night dance while she and Ross were in Kalgoorlie, and by all accounts most of the single men were desperate to dance with her. Dulcie didn’t feel the least bit jealous that her sister received so much attention, she took pride in it, and was delighted that old friends like Sergeant and Mrs Collins liked her too. By day, whether Dulcie was doing her routine chores or out with her sister, she could put aside the sadness inside her. It was only the nights that were torturous, for it was hot and cramped in the caravan, and so hard to sleep when every slight touch was a reminder Ross wasn’t a real husband.

Yet he was so lovely in so many other ways. He got up in the morning and made her tea, he talked to her more now than he ever had before, he had fixed up the caravan so it was like a little palace, and he’d gone out of his way to be extra specially nice to May.

But May was going back to Perth today, and it might be months before they saw one another again. Although Dulcie couldn’t confide in her sister about Ross, it had been so good to have some feminine company, and she understood now why Betty had set so much store by her women friends.

‘I suppose the caravan would be much hotter than the house,’ Bruce said anxiously. ‘Maybe you ought to come back in the house till the end of the summer?’

‘No, the caravan’s our home now,’ Dulcie replied. She knew if she was that close to Bruce he might work out for himself what was wrong. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get used to the heat.’

‘I’ve been thinking of getting Ross to build a real house for you,’ Bruce said. ‘The site of Sam’s old house the other side of the barn would be a good spot. The caravan will be no good once you start a family.’

Dulcie’s heart plummeted. In all her efforts to make everyone think she and Ross were radiantly happy she hadn’t actually considered that unless the situation changed there would be no children. ‘A real house would be nice,’ she forced herself to agree. ‘But there’s no hurry, Bruce, we’re fine as we are.’

May came out of the bedroom wearing blue cotton slacks and a white broderie anglaise blouse, her hair tied up in a pony-tail with a blue ribbon. She had a deep suntan now and she looked very lovely.

‘Do you think this is all right for travelling in?’ she asked. ‘It’s going to be so hot and sticky.’

‘I should think it’s perfect,’ Dulcie said, remembering how awful she’d found the same journey. ‘But have you got a cardigan handy? It might get cold overnight.’

May nodded, peering at herself in the mirror over the fireplace. ‘I’ve left my hat for you, Dulcie,’ she said. ‘I doubt I’ll get a chance to wear it again, and it’s so awkward to carry, but you could wear it for the christening.’

Dulcie’s skin prickled uncomfortably.

‘Give her a chance,’ Bruce said jovially. ‘She hasn’t been married five minutes.’

Dulcie watched the train leaving Esperance until it was just a speck in the distance, tears running down her cheeks. She had made May enough sandwiches to feed an army, she had drinks, magazines and books to read, and she was going back to a place where she was wanted and needed, yet Dulcie was still worried she’d be as miserable on the long journey as she herself had been five years earlier, and she knew she was going to miss her company.

Bruce put his arm around her and drew her to his shoulder. ‘You will see her again soon,’ he reassured her. ‘For all that city talk she comes out with, she was taken with life down here, she’ll be back.’ He wiped her face dry with his handkerchief and kissed her comfortingly on the forehead.

‘What if she does go to Sydney when she’s eighteen?’ Dulcie said as they walked back to the car. ‘We won’t be able to see one another then.’

‘Yes you will.’ Bruce grinned at her and tweaked her cheek. ‘Haven’t you noticed transport is improving all the time? I wouldn’t be surprised if ordinary people like you and me couldn’t fly across Australia before long. There might even come a time when you could fly from here to Perth! Look how many people are coming this way to live now!’

Dulcie nodded. He was right about that, Esperance was changing rapidly. She’d heard that in 1953 the population was only 700, yet by 1959 it had more than doubled, and more were coming every week. New shops had opened in the town, houses were being built, and all the little guest-houses were having a boom time. She knew too that all the farmers were doing really well, the prices for cereals, wool, beef and lamb rising steadily. Bruce had kept increasing both her wages and the men’s each year – the twelve pounds a week she got now was a far cry from ten shillings at the Masters’.

‘We’ll go in the milk bar and have some coffee before we go home,’ Bruce said. ‘It’s going to be a bit on the quiet side there without May around.’

May left on Thursday, and she was due back in Perth on Saturday morning. When the telephone rang around five o’clock on Saturday afternoon, Dulcie ran to it, expecting it was May saying she’d got home safely. But it was Mrs Wilberforce.

‘I’m concerned because May hasn’t arrived back,’ she said, her tone worried. ‘Did she leave you as arranged?’

‘Well yes, Mrs Wilberforce,’ Dulcie said. ‘I saw her on to the train myself.’

‘Where is she then?’ the woman asked.

‘I don’t know. Maybe she’s just gone to see a friend in town before returning home,’ Dulcie suggested.

‘I shouldn’t think that’s very likely. Not carrying two heavy suitcases – she would just get in a taxi.’

Dulcie was about to say that maids couldn’t afford to
just get in a taxi,
when she remembered May had only one suitcase. It would certainly have stuck in her mind if there had been two. Who would go away for just a week’s holiday with two?

The old habit of loyalty between May and herself was too deeply ingrained for Dulcie to blurt this out. She confirmed again that May had left, and said she would telephone later tonight to see if she had turned up.

But after she’d put the phone down, Dulcie’s mind spun with other possibilities. If May had set off with two suitcases, she must have left one of them at Kalgoorlie station, or even with Sadie at the hotel. There was only one reason that she’d do such a thing, and that was because she hadn’t ever had any intention of returning to Perth.

The day before May left Bruce had offered to drive her to Kalgoorlie because it was quicker by road, but she’d flatly refused, saying it was too long a drive for him. At the time Dulcie had been touched by her thoughtfulness, she certainly hadn’t considered her sister might have a devious plan up her sleeve.

She looked up the telephone number for Kalgoorlie station and rang it. The ticket clerk confirmed a young woman with blonde hair had picked up a case she’d left with him for over a week, and said she had bought a ticket to Sydney, intending to catch the 11 p.m. train.

Dulcie put the phone down and walked outside on to the veranda. She was stunned that her sister could be so cunning. She thought it was stupid and reckless to run out on a good job, and wondered how May would manage without a reference.

Yet setting all the practical considerations aside, she couldn’t help but feel a certain admiration for her sister’s pluck. It was very brave to throw security out of the window and set off to the other side of Australia when she knew no one there. But May wasn’t yet eighteen and she could be picked up by the police.

Deep concern and anxiety took over as she imagined her sister sitting on that endless train journey which took several days. She would be exhausted by the time she got there, and anything could happen to her. Did she have any money? Did she have the least idea of how to go about finding a place to stay?

Ross saw her standing on the veranda and came over from the barn where he’d been working on a repair to the plough. ‘Something up?’ he asked as he got closer. ‘You look rattled.’

Dulcie explained, and slumped down on to a seat. ‘What do I do, Ross? If I tell Mrs Wilberforce the truth about where she’s gone, she might contact the police. They could pick May up on the train.’

He sat next to Dulcie and put his arm around her. ‘Don’t worry about her, she’s a survivor. She’ll charm someone into looking after her, you can be sure of that. Don’t tell Mrs Wilberforce what you know, May will only blame you if she gets caught. Mind you, if that woman’s got even half a brain she’ll work it out for herself.’