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She had got Fred Bridgeone, taking with her only a suitcase of clothes, forty-two dollars in savings, and two of the good photographs of the children from the front parlour
‘Mr Leader at the ticket office said she’d got the train to Sydney Froured she’d come back when she was ready But she never did Daniel took it hardest’
Frances took Margaret’s hand
‘Afterwards, I suppose, we could all have seen the signs But you don’t look, do you? Mothers are meant to be exhausted, fed up They’re et headaches I suppose we all thought she was part of the furniture’
‘Did you ever hear fro her to come back, but when she didn’t, he stopped Pretty quickly, come to think of it He couldn’t cope with the idea of her not loving hi back, the boys wouldn’t write at all Sohe justtheybehaved as if she had died It was easier than ad the truth’ She paused ‘She’s only written once this year Maybe I’uilt she doesn’t want to feel So I could do would be to let her go’ She turned the envelope in her free hand
‘I’m sure she wouldn’t want to cause you pain,’ said Frances, quietly
‘But she is All the tih I ht write more often’
‘It’s not the letters’ Margaret threw the envelope on to the deck
Frances fought the urge to pin it doith so She didn’t want a stray breeze to take it overboard
‘It’s everything It’s her – her and et it I’ht?’
‘Yesbut--’
‘So what am I meant to feel, if motherhood is so bad that my mum had always been desperate to run away?’ She rubbed swollen fingers across her eyes ‘What if, Frances, what if when this thing is born, what if when this baby finally gets hereI feel exactly the same?’
The weather had broken at al finished – or as Tie drops of rain landed heavily on the deck, and the wo fros into bags and scurrying, like ants, below decks
Margaret had retreated to the cabin to check on the dog, and Frances sat with Jean in the deck canteen, watching the rain trickling through the salt on the s and into the rusting frames Only a few brides had chosen to stay on deck, even under the relative shelter of the canteen: a storm on the sea was a different prospect fro between hurey seas, with the thunderous clouds co relentlessly froaret had seemed a little better once she’d spoken out She had wept a little, crossly blaised, several times Frances had felt helpless She had wanted to tell her a little about her own family, but felt that to do so would require further explanation, which she wasn’t prepared to give, even to Margaret The other woman’s friendship had becoht with it a sense of foreboding She toyed with the roan, the sheets of ainst each other like fault lines before an earthquake Outside the lashings clanked disconsolately, and the rain ran in tidal rivers off the deck
Where is he now? she thought Is he sleeping? Dreaaret’s friendship had introduced new ehts of thein her that filled her with shaht that Margaret had spoken to Joe on the radio; hearing their exchange, seeing the way Margaret had been illuminated by the e chasm in her own life She had felt a sadness that wasn’t, for once, assuaged by the sight of the ocean Now, a sense of loss was sharpened by the thought of the ht of him as a friend, a kindred spirit It was as much as she had ever expected of ashe couldn’t identify, soht of her husband, ‘Chalkie’ Mackenzie What she had felt on firsthim had been quite different She put down the spoon and forced herself to look at the other women I won’t do this, she told herself There is no point in hankering for things you can’t have That you have never been able to have She e, to a tih She had been satisfied then, hadn’t she?
‘The cook says it’s not going to be a bad one,’ said Jean, returning to the table with two cups of tea She sounded alet, apparently Shah the Bight Once I stopped chucking et et the other side of the Suez Canal’
Frances was getting used to Jean’s perverse enthusiash weather’
‘I aer of a storm One I can tell Stan about Oh, I knoon’t feel irl like this, but I’d like to sit up here and watch A bit of excitement, you know? Like thea bit boring’
Frances gazed out of theSo illu on the metal roof so that they had to speak up to be heard On the other side of the canteen several brides were pointing at the distant horizon
‘Oh, come on, Frances You like a bit of excite led on her seat ‘I mean, look at it’
Just for a moment, Frances allowed herself to see the squall as Jean did, to let its raw energy flood over her, illue her up But the habits of years were too strong, and when she turned to Jean, her deht want to be careful what you wish for,’ she said But she kept her eyes on the distant stor beside each other at the canteen dooraiting for the rain to ease off a little so that they could bolt towards the hatch that led down to the cabins, when the rating arrived He pushed through the door, dripping wet after having ust of the rain-soaked cool air