Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Newcastle
Three weeks later, Mima woke up late to the sound of a magpie warbling its mournful tune outside Luca’s window.
She froze for a moment until memories of the previous night washed over her, making her blush.
She pulled the sheets up beneath her chin and turned her head to see Luca sleeping peacefully beside her, mouth slightly ajar, snoring lightly.
What had she done?
She pressed a hand to her forehead, eyes wide.
She’d had too much to drink. Even now, the pounding in the back of her skull reminded her that she couldn’t recall exactly how many Scotches she’d downed, but she’d never drunk the liquor before, and the stale taste of it gave her mouth a dry, cloying feeling.
Plus, he’d given her something to smoke.
Why hadn’t she asked him about it? What was it?
It’d given left her with a heady feeling and had made it seem like she was flying.
There were colours—so many bright colours—when she’d finally fallen asleep.
It must’ve been grass, dope, reefer. She wasn’t sure what the kids were calling it these days.
She didn’t exactly run with that crowd, and she’d never seen it in person before in her life.
Would she fall into addiction now? Her parents had warned her about exactly this. Why hadn’t she listened?
With slow, deliberate movements, she sat up in bed. Her head spun, and she grasped it between her palms for a moment as if to slow it down. One glance at Luca showed he hadn’t moved, so she stood to her feet and quickly pulled on her clothing.
He groaned and rolled onto his side, his eyes blinking open. She stood stock still, her breathing shallow.
“Hi,” he said with a lazy smile. “Hey, where are you going?”
“Uh, hi. I have to get home.” She blushed again, her cheeks flaming with heat.
He rolled closer to her and reached out to grab her around the waist, pulling her to him with a grin. “Don’t go. Not yet. I was going to make you breakfast.”
“You cook?” she asked, one eyebrow arched.
“Toast… Does that count?”
“I’m not sure it counts as cooking, but if you have Vegemite on hand, it might be considered breakfast.”
“You’re in luck.” He winked, then tugged her onto the bed.
She squealed as she fell, and he tickled her ribs until she begged for mercy with tears gleaming on her cheeks.
They ate toast with Vegemite on the outside balcony with a view of a large gum tree and the street beyond it.
People scurried by on the footpath on their way to work, or home, or shopping.
They all had things to do and places to go, but Mima didn’t.
She was scheduled for an evening shift that day.
The morning was hers to do with as she pleased, although Sister Jones wouldn’t be happy that she’d missed curfew.
She’d have to come up with a story before she made her way back to the dormitory.
“What are your plans for the day?” she asked Luca.
He leaned back in his chair and crossed one lanky leg over the other. “I thought I might go down to the beach for a stroll. Do some fishing.”
“Fishing? I can’t picture that. Will you wear your zoot suit?” She smirked around a mouthful of toast with salty Vegemite and thick, soft butter. It was delicious and exactly what she and her sore head needed, along with the cup of steaming tea that sat on the metal table in front of her.
“Hey, I’m more than a zoot suit and hair gel. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He reached out a hand to hold hers. “But I hope you’ll remedy that because I want to know everything about you.”
After breakfast, while Luca got his fishing gear together, she strolled down to the post office to post a letter to her parents.
She hadn’t heard from them in a while and was beginning to think she might need to catch the train out to Bathurst to check on them.
She missed them. Having Luca in her life now made her think about family, and she wished she could have a close relationship with them the way Edie did with her parents.
But it’d never been like that for her. They’d taken good care of her as a child, but they didn’t talk about things.
They’d emigrated from England as a young married couple and brought the stiff upper lip of the pommy culture with them.
As she left the post office, she noticed the large rectangular red box of a public phone booth.
She hadn’t used telephones often, but her parents had recently installed a telephone in their kitchen.
Mother had written about it in her last letter.
It was just like them to want to show off to the neighbours.
There weren’t many private telephones in Bathurst yet, but her father was a successful businessman in the bustling rural town, and he liked to stay abreast of the latest technology, as he put it.
She stepped into the booth and foraged in her pocket for two shillings. She picked up the earpiece, slipped the coins into the slot, and dialled the long-distance switchboard. A tone sounded on the line, and an operator answered.
“What number, please?”
“The trunk line to Bathurst 195, please.”
“Please hang up. I’ll call you back once the connection has been established. Thank you!”
Mima hung up the phone and waited, leaning against the wall and twirling her hair around a finger.
She ran over the events of the previous evening in her mind’s eye.
Heat flushed her cheeks, and she bit down on her lower lip.
She’d had no idea that’s what it would be like.
She still couldn’t believe she’d done it— she shouldn’t do it again.
Really, it wouldn’t be long before the secret was out.
But who would it hurt? She was a modern woman.
There was no one looking over her shoulder.
At least, not if Tilda would help her keep the matron off her back.
Her parents had no idea what was going on in her life.
They didn’t much seem to care what she did.
And who else did she answer to? Her life was her own, and she was in love with Luca.
The phone trilled, and she held it to her ear. “Hello?”
“I’ve got Bathurst 195 for you, Miss.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
There was a pause and click, then she heard her mother’s tentative voice on the other end of the line. “Who is this, please?”
“Hello, Mother. It’s Mima. How are you?”
“Mima? Where are you calling from?”
“I’m in Newcastle. I was at the post office to post you a letter when I saw this phone booth and thought that would be a much faster way to communicate. Isn’t it amazing? I can hear you just as if you were standing beside me.”
“Not quite so clearly, but it’s nice to hear from you. How are you, my dear?”
“I’m well. Still working as a midwife at the hospital. Still living in the dormitory there. But I have a boyfriend.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then her mother spoke in a halting voice. “Who is he?”
“He’s a musician. You’d love him. The way he plays the saxophone is incredible.”
“The saxophone? Is he one of those boogies? Does he play that awful jazz music?”
“Do you mean bodgies?” Mima frowned. “No, I wouldn’t call him a bodgie, Mother. He’s a musician, a very talented one.”
“And where does he play, then? In an orchestra?”
“Well… not exactly. He plays at dance halls and events. Sometimes weddings. That kind of thing.”
“Dance halls?” She could hear the disapproval in her mother’s tone. “You should stay away from men like that. He’ll only get you into trouble.”
“Mother, I’m in love. Can’t you be happy for me?”
“In love? Mima, when will you learn to be sensible? I thought by now… well, never mind. I’ve got to go, my dear.
I’m playing mahjong with the neighbours.
Have you heard of it? It’s very exotic, and all the rage in Sydney.
We play it weekly, and we have the most fun.
Maybe you could join us for a game next time you’re in town. ”
“Can I speak to Daddy before I go? I have enough credit…”
“He won’t speak to you, Mima. You know that.
And now with this boyfriend… He worries about you, but he’s had enough of your hijinks.
He has a reputation to think about. What will people say?
And if it’s money you’re after, he’s already told you that he won’t give you a cent.
Not with you living that lifestyle in the city. ”
As Mima hung up the phone, her heart was heavy.
She’d felt so full of joy a few minutes ago, and now she was a deflated sail on a still, cold ocean.
She strode back to Luca’s unit with a growing sense of anger.
Why couldn’t her parents accept her? They never truly had.
They wanted a good little girl who always did what she was told, never had a thought of her own, got married right out of school, and settled in the same neighbourhood to pop out babies and play weekly games of mahjong with her mother.
But that wasn’t Mima. It never had been.