Eileen and Bill
Shirley’s oldest sister Eileen left school at the age of fourteen, as all Richmond regulars did, and found a job in one of the local factories. Shirley has very early memories seeing Eileen in a new dress she bought from her tiny wage, resplendent with in her pancake make-up and bright red lipstick, heading out to the local dance at the Richmond Town Hall with her twittering girlfriends. As Shirley grew into a pre-schooler, she was often out walking to her friends’ streets or buying a milkshake on Bridge Road. Sometimes on her travels, Shirley would see Eileen talking with some young boys and girls, but she wasn’t game enough to go up and hang around. Little sisters were not very popular. Everyone had them, and the malingering maelstrom of young working-class girls and boys hanging out on street corners all wished to escape their swirling family lives whenever they could.
Eileen listened to new tunes on the radio when her father was out and sang along out of tune. You could listen to a commercial station when her father wasn’t home, but you had to make sure you didn’t leave it on that station when he returned home or there would be ‘hell to pay’. Eileen and Lorna fought over the use of the radio when their mother was out. When May was home, she overruled them all.
Lorna and Eileen’s fights were often and epic.
They either involved hysterical yelling and door slamming, or silent, seething sarcasms, which to Shirley were somehow worse. She did not know what she hated more – when they did talk to each other, or when they didn’t. Either way, it was always preferable to have them home one at a time. When they were both home, Shirley would make herself scarce.
At 17 Eileen met Bill, who in his prime was a handsome man. He worked during the day worked as a boiler maker at the local meat works and in his spare time trained the swimming squad at the Richmond Swimming Squad two mornings and evenings a week. Shirley joined the swimming squad as soon as she qualified, and Bill was a dedicated and demanding coach. So much so, that swimming training soon moved to increasingly enthusiastic early hours of the morning, and Shirley’s enthusiasm for training soon waned in inverse proportion – until she eventually dropped out altogether. He had a mass of brown hair that was practically Samson-esque; giant, hairy arms, and a loud laugh that was strong and forthright. Arthur thought him a man’s man and offered him port wine in the library whenever he visited. His eyes twinkled when he saw Shirley, and he would tease her sometimes, which she enjoyed. In those early days Bill and Eileen were happy and fresh, and Shirley looked back in amazement in later decades, remembering the way they used to sparkle around each other, and the fluttering conversation that would ensue.
Those sad memories of a young Eileen emerging from the bedroom, smelling of roses and wearing a new dress adorned with a posy for the St Ignatius ball haunted Shirley’s dreams when she was a mother herself years later. In her dreams, she would try to talk to her and follow her out the door and down the street, but Eileen wouldn’t slow down, or turn around. She would just drop a hankie by mistake and Shirley would pick it up. When she tried to run after Eileen to return it, her legs wouldn’t run properly. Eileen would disappear around the corner and Shirley would cry and cry. When she woke it would be a grey dawn and a baby would be rustling against her wraps next to her bed. Her heart would be beating too fast to get back to sleep and she would watch the blinds moving lightly against the night breeze in a daze until the day slowly began, and Fred’s alarm clanged into life.
Eileen married Bill McConville at St James’ Church on a school day when Shirley was in Grade 5. Eileen wore a suit that she had chosen from the Coles Emporium and paid off over three months. The reception was small but was held in a local hall somewhere nearby, and Shirley enjoyed wearing her new dress, and the special spread of food, although she was warned against having more than one of all the selections of cakes, scones and sponges. Eileen and Bill then moved in above a shop front in Bridge Road on the way home from St James, and Eileen tried to live the life of a married woman at that time, as her employer did not keep women on once they were married.
Gradually, stories came home to their mother of Bill leaving work on Thursday lunchtime when he got paid and not returning home until Monday night after he had spent almost every cent of his pay on grog and gambling. Eileen’s small savings were soon exhausted, and when Shirley called in on her way home from school every Wednesday, Eileen took to asking her to go home and ask Mum for the money for Billy’s tea, because she didn’t have a penny for a bit of bread in the house. Soon the first flat was replaced by another and another, until Eileen’s parents stepped in and agreed to let them move back into Griffith Street before they became homeless. Eileen took to trying to track down Bill at his various drinking venues, and more and more Eileen would return home herself at 6.30pm smelling of beer and cigarettes so badly that it would make Shirley sick at the dinner table. The only thing worse, was when Bill would get home after a few days on the drink and find a reason to pick a fight with Eileen. Shirley would lie in her bedroom and stuff her fingers in her ears as hard as she could to block out the sound of the yelling and the thuds as her sister would fall heavily, swearing and spewing out drunken cries that only invited more cursing from Bill.
Shirley would hold her breath until the screaming stopped. Turning over in her bed with her face to the wall, she would say Hail Marys over and over to help her fall asleep.
Chapter 12
Lorna and George
Lorna met George at her work at the Elastic Webbing factory when she was about 16. George was a dashing, diminutive, sparkly eyed Scottish boy with an oversized mane of dark, curly hair. He had arrived with his family from Scotland when he was 11. On the boat trip over, he fell over and hurt his arm, but he kept his injury hidden from his family, concerned that they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it or be able to afford the doctor who attended the voyage. His arm withered and was scarred from the accident his whole life.
George was a friendly and garrulous boy, with an impish smile. He dated Lorna for many years before they married, and Shirley loved seeing him when he would visit every Saturday on his new motorbike. Lorna always took her bath on Saturday morning which was a major production, so George and Shirley took to going on their own excursions while she prettified herself for the week. They would go down to the bay, east towards the hills, or north to Keilor, where they would visit the Dodds; Shirley’s relatives from Samaria who owned the Keilor Hotel – back then a quaint country pub.
George and Lorna were a happy couple who loved going to the local dances or driving down to the beach for a picnic on a hot day. Shirley couldn’t really remember a time when George had not been around, as he had been dating Lorna for almost five years by the time they got married when Shirley was 12. Their wedding was more of a lavish affair for the poor of Richmond at the time. It took place in St Ignatius Church and Shirley was invited to be a junior bridesmaid. Lorna looked so beautiful in her long white dress, and her mother was determined to wear her best suit no matter how hot it became. Her father looked uncharacteristically proper in his black suit and his hair tamed and brushed down. The reception took place at a small venue in Bridge Road that tried to look like a formal reception room, but was just a tired-out restaurant with faded curtains, an uneven floor and some battered tables and chairs. It turned out to be a very hot day, and the congregation sweltered in the stuffy church. As they stood by the altar, a large blowfly made its procession down the aisle to join them and buzzed relentlessly around the altar as the vows were exchanged and the mass proceeded. Shirley was spellbound and could only watch in fascination as the blowfly whizzed from altar to candlestick to pew, punctuating the prayers of the priest and the shy mutterings of Lorna and George with its insane, tyrannical buzzing. Whenever Shirley thought of their wedding, all she could only think of was that blasted blowfly.
Memoirs and Memories 