Days rolled by as unstoppably as they do. The mildness of spring leavened into a hot, dry summer. Christmas was spent driving back and forth from Gawler to Adelaide in the heat, visiting family and eating until Thomas felt pleasantly sick. The 1961 new year arrived and Thomas’s short break for the festive season was over and he went back to work, whereupon his responsibilities were increased, again: this time, to incorporate in-home demonstrations.
And then Elsie told him she was expecting.
For Thomas, 1961 was off to a cracking start.
It felt ridiculously indulgent to eat out for the heck of it. On a Friday night in February, the atmosphere in the restaurant was ripe with reverence and a sense of occasion. Wine glasses clinked softly amongst demure conversation and the notes of jazz. If he wanted to, Thomas could spend a week’s wages on little more than a couple of meals and a bottle of wine. But this was a celebration, and Thomas read the menu feeling like a child in a toy store. If he was to be honest, he would have preferred to go to the pub, but as he was with Elsie he would have had to spend the evening in the ladies’ lounge. And it didn’t seem fair to celebrate his wife’s being up the spout without his wife. Or her spout.
‘How am I supposed to pick only one meal?’ Thomas exclaimed as he appraised the list of mouth-watering offers on the menu. Beef Wellington, shepherd’s pie, tripe in white sauce. ‘I’m leaning towards beef Wellington.’ He set down his menu and looked up at Elsie. ‘What are you going to have?’
She frowned. ‘I think I’m going to ask for a little broth.’
‘What? No! Order something special. You can have broth any old time. This is an occasion.’
‘I know, darling,’ she said with a small smile. ‘I’m just not feeling very well. Quite nauseous, actually. But nothing to worry about.’
‘Isn’t that supposed to end after the morning?’
She shot him a look that stood his arm hairs on end. ‘Sorry,’ he said, chastened. ‘I’m sorry to hear it, my love. Is there anything I can do?’
She twiddled with her fork. ‘This is lovely, going out for tea together. And I’m very excited about . . .’ she dropped her eyes to her lap and her cheeks went a beautiful shade of pink. ‘But I wonder about . . . tempting fate.’
‘What’s that, love?’
‘You know – being excited too soon.’
‘What do you mean?’ he cried. Elsie looked alarmed. He lowered his voice. ‘There’s no such thing as being “too” excited. And what do you mean, “too soon”? Aren’t you delighted?’
‘Of course I am.’ She smiled again and he relaxed. ‘But it’s considered prudent to keep this to ourselves. At least for the first three months.’ That last part she uttered barely louder than a whisper and Thomas had to lean forward and strain to hear her.
‘Is that so?’
Elsie picked up her glass of water. ‘So the superstition goes. Ugh.’ She set the water back down and wrinkled her nose as a waitress carrying two steaming plates passed behind her. ‘That fish smells awful. I can smell everything. Which wouldn’t ordinarily matter, except that right now everything smells atrocious.’
Thomas made a mental note not to order the fish. Surely the beef Wellington would be okay? There wasn’t any fish in that, was there? ‘I’m sure you’ll be back to normal in no time,’ he said. ‘I have no doubt. And think how excited you’re going to be. And how busy! I know you’ve been wanting a little more to keep you occupied at home.’
Elsie’s face split into a grin. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘It’s going to be wonderful.’
Thomas adored her. ‘What a perfect wife you are.’
Almost immediately, Elsie’s face crumpled. Her eyes glimmered with tears. Mild horror rose in Thomas. ‘Oh dear, I’ve upset you.’
She shook her head and dabbed at her cheeks with her napkin. ‘Just mood swings. All very normal. Listen to me, troubling you with women’s business. Enough.’ She shook her head, and her smile was back. Lighting up his life.
‘Let’s enjoy this treat,’ she said. ‘A celebration. Now, what are you going to order?’
He watched her carefully, but the happiness appeared to stay. Internally he scolded himself for asking after her bodily problems – after all, he knew nothing of the feminine enigma and everyone knew it was best kept that way. On a few occasions they had been behind the bathroom door together, and he recalled now that slippery, miraculous occasion when Elsie had permitted him to make love to her in the shower. But for the most part, the mysterious workings of a woman’s body were best kept between her and her doctor.
Especially so now, in these delicate matters. So he consoled himself with the fact that if he needed to know something, his beloved wife would tell him. And if she said it’s nothing to worry about, then worry he would not.
As though reading his mind, Elsie said in an amused voice, ‘I’m feeling a trifle under the weather, that’s all.’ She offered him a stronger smile, showing the pearls of her teeth, the front two overlapping slightly. ‘But I can’t wait to become a mother.’
Reassured, Thomas signalled for the waiter because, what the hell, he’d decided to order the porterhouse.