The Missus

By V. Tamaso

The Missus is the second book in a trilogy tracing the blossoming of a woman’s identity and sexuality from childhood through to middle age. Following on Brothers? Uncles! Sister? Aunt! it traces Sue’s marriage from the late 1940s to the 1980s when she meets Bhagwan Sri Rajneesh. The story is set against the complex lives of her extended family, exploring themes common to many Australian marriages of that era.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Feb 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664101517

V. Tamaso

Tamaso’s writing first appeared at the age of nine in the children’s section of the Sydney Sunday Sun newspaper. Among her published works are nine teenage novelettes for ‘reluctant readers’ on themes relevant to teenagers of the 1960s and 1970s, books on Australian birds, encyclopedia nature articles, short stories and poems in anthologies from UK, USA, India and Australia, and a short novel Skye’s the Limit, telling of a young girl’s fight to save a rainforest. Her writing embraces mid-twentieth century social themes from middle-class respectability through hard-drinking club and working men’s life, juxtaposed against solitary independence among nature and spiritual awakening. For the last thirty years of her life till her death aged 92 in 2020 she lived and wrote in the Rainbow Region, an area in the lush subtropics of northern NSW, Australia.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

‘What’s up, Penny?’ said Sue looking down at the excited big dog making yipping noises, ears pricked up and tail thumping the floor. ‘Can you hear him already? I can’t.’

The dog jumped up and whined at the door to be let out. Then, sure enough, Sue heard the distant hum of a motorbike on the main road. At least two minutes away, it could have been any bike in the busy traffic after the pubs closed at six o’clock but Penny was never wrong. It was Bill.

Sue opened the door and the dog raced out and down along the rough track they had hacked out of the bush as access from the red-dirt road a couple of hundred yards away. The barking grew more excited as the bike came closer. Bill roared in and parked, and Penny leapt all over him. Bill grabbed her and down they went, rolling around the ground, playing and wrestling with weird growling noises, yaps from the dog and yells from Bill. This was the homecoming ritual enacted every evening while Sue hurried to put the finishing touches on the meal. She liked to be ready to dish it up the minute Bill walked in the door. A man deserved a good hot meal after a hard day’s work. Same as he deserved a drink. Sue didn’t mind him going to the pub after work as it gave her time, when she got home from her office job, to get the fire going, start the meal and set the table.

Tonight was a special night. She had big news and she wasn’t sure how Bill would take it. He came in laughing and brushing down his clothes, gave her a quick kiss and sniffed appreciatively. ‘Something smells good, Darl! I’m starving.’

‘Here you are then,’ said Sue putting down a plate heaped with good thick stew, mashed potatoes, pumpkin and fresh green peas. ‘Sit down and get stuck into it.’

The dog lay on the floor under the table and Bill slipped her a piece of meat whenever he thought Sue wouldn’t notice.

But Sue had something else on her mind as she picked at her food.

‘Bill,’ she said tentatively.

Bill looked up from his meal. ‘Yeah? What’s up?’

Sue hesitated.

‘Come on,’ said Bill. ‘Spit it out! I won’t bite, you know.’

‘I’m going to have a baby.’

Bill stared at her open-mouthed, forkful of food poised in the air. ‘You’re quite sure?’ he asked.

‘Yes. I went to the doctor in lunchtime today.’ Sue’s eyes searched his face pleading for approval. ‘Oh Bill! Say you don’t mind! Please!’

Bill laughed in surprise. ‘Mind! Why would I mind? It’s marvellous, darling! Bit of a bloody shock that’s all! When you think of all that time we were doing it before we were married. Guess we were just lucky.’

‘No. More careful, that’s all. Just as well. This was only that one night we didn’t use anything because you forgot to go to the chemist. Remember?’

In actual fact, Bill had come home that night considerably more than slightly under the weather for the first time since their marriage. Annoyed at first, Sue had ended up responding to him, for Bill was a happy drunk and it was hard to resist his playful ways when she loved him so much. And you couldn’t blame a man for having a drink with his mates after work, could you?

‘Don’t know how I’m ever going to tell Mum,’ Sue went on. ‘She’ll have a fit! She’s so set against me tying myself down with kids. And you know what they’re all going to say, don’t you?’

‘No! What? Who?’

‘The family! Specially Betty and Bessie! The Gruesome Twosome! Oh well! They’ll laugh on the other side of their face when they count up the months and find that I wasn’t pregnant, even though we did get married in such a hurry. At least Amy knows I wasn’t. She’ll tell them.’

‘Pete’s missus! Yeah, she’ll tell the four bloody B’s! Bob and Bert and Betty and Bessie! But what’s it bloody matter what they think anyway?’ said Bill shovelling in some more food. ‘Don’t worry! Maggie’ll soon set them straight if they start slinging off.’

‘Oh, they wouldn’t dare say anything in front of Mum. They’re not that silly!’ Sue laughed. ‘But, Bill! You really are pleased about the baby?’

‘‘Course I am, love!’ he smiled, wiping up his gravy with a lump of bread. ‘But you’ll have to give up work now, you know,’ he added sternly.

‘Not yet, though!’ protested Sue. ‘I can keep on working until I start to show.’

‘Hang on!’ said Bill with authority. ‘I never wanted you to go out to work in the first place. Remember? You’re my wife! I’m the man in this family. I’ve got my job and you’ve got yours, here at home, looking after the kids.’

‘But there’s no kids to look after yet! I can work for another three or four months. Think of how much I can earn in that time.’

‘Bugger how much you can earn,’ said Bill, his voice rising. ‘What do you reckon the blokes at work will bloody-well say when I tell them you’re pregnant but you’re still going out to work?’

‘You don’t have to tell them anything! It’s no business of theirs anyway. What’s it matter what they think?’ said Sue, echoing Bill’s own earlier comment.

‘Course it bloody-well matters!’ said Bill, louder still now. ‘I have to work with these blokes! I don’t want them slinging off at me all day long. It’s bad enough already. Do you realise I’m the only bloke there whose missus goes out to work? A woman’s place is in the home! If we need more money I’ll get a second job. Wilma was asking me only the other day if I wanted to start as a waiter.’

Sue had to laugh. ‘I don’t see you in a dickie suit and black tie waiting on tables.’

‘Why not? If Pete can bloody do it, I can.’

‘Pete’s been doing it for years. He grew up waiting on tables.’

‘Well, it’d be a bloody sight better than washing dishes like I used to. The pay’s the same but waiters get lots of tips.’

‘That’s true! I used to get loads of tips when I worked in the cloakroom and sold cigarettes. Duncan reckons that in the big city clubs the waiters don’t even get paid. They just work for tips. And they sell their jobs when they want to leave.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t bloody come at that,’ said Bill, a staunch Union man. ‘If Wilma wants me to work she’ll have to pay me. I reckon I’d make a good waiter. Any more of that stew?’ He passed over his plate.

‘You probably would,’ Sue agreed, disappointed that he wasn’t showing more interest in the baby. She ladled out some more stew. ‘But Bill, even if you do take the job, I could still work for a few months. Just till I start to show, you know.’

They argued it out while Bill finished his stew and Sue dished up some banana custard and jelly. The kettle was whistling on the stove and Sue made herself a pot of tea.

Bill finally agreed that Sue could stay on at work for a while and he would talk to Wilma about the waiter’s job. And they would keep the news of the baby a secret as long as possible.

They had only been married six weeks and, although Bill was opposed to women working, he had agreed to Sue staying on at her job for the first two years, so that they could get things together for the house they were building. At present they were living in the little garage they had built, which the council allowed them to call a Temporary Dwelling. Their few bits and pieces of furniture (hand-me-downs from their families) took up the whole of the floor space; there was no electricity and their water supply was a 500 gallon ex-army water carrier.

In this post World War II era, thousands of ex-servicemen and their families were living in much the same conditions. Building materials were in short supply and high demand, although anything was available for those who were prepared to pay black market prices.

Bill had already dug out the footings for the house and was now waiting for a load of bricks for the foundations. There was a six-month’s waiting list but Wilma had said she might be able to help. Wilma knew everyone and could get anything. At a price.

Situated in a bushy area, their land was about a mile from the bus and farther still from the train. There were no immediate neighbours but there were several houses in the street behind. All around them, there were blocks up for sale so it wouldn’t be long before the whole area was built out. Sue was not looking forward to having neighbours on all sides, after growing up on five acres of land, with horses, cows, chooks, an orchard and vegetable garden, but still with some virgin bush. Sadly, some time back, Mum had decided to sub-divide the land into building blocks so that the some of the boys could have home sites. Pete, Bob and Bert had already built their houses.

But right now, all Sue could think about was the baby. She wanted to tell the world but could see the sense in keeping it quiet for a while.

CHAPTER TWO

Maggie cast a critical eye over the kitchen walls. They could do with a good scrub. Better still, a new coat of paint. A nice cream, with green trim for the picture rail. She should paint them before Duncan and Cora moved in. That Cora was such a finicky woman. Always done up like a sore toe. And now planning some ultra-modern mansion on the block of land that Maggie had given them when she had sub-divided the property a couple of years ago.

All the other boys had built their houses quickly but Duncan had hung out a bit longer for a good price for his business. Not that he’d have anything left after that woman got her house. Probably have to borrow, if the truth be known. And now he intended to go back to working for Wilma at the nightclub, Bernie’s Place, and live with Maggie until the house was built.

It would be good to have family in the house again; it seemed so empty now that Sue had married and moved out to the bush. Having Duncan home again would be great too but Maggie wasn’t so happy about having Cora there. That young woman had tickets on herself. But Maggie did have to admit that Cora had been a great help to Duncan in his business.

Wandering through the big house Maggie tried to see it through Cora’s eyes. Perhaps she should put up some new wallpaper in that front bedroom where they’d be living, and get a nice rug to cover the worn patch in the carpet. The rambling old house, with its spacious rooms and high ceilings, had been built in sections as the family had grown. But they were all gone now, all ten of them, grown-up and married with families of their own. Well, not Sue but likely it wouldn’t be long. They’d got married so suddenly, there must be a baby on the way.

And not Nick either. No pretty face had been able to trap that young man yet. Where was he, these days? There had been no letter for weeks. Did that mean he was on his way home? He often turned up out of the blue, stayed a month or two, helped out with some odd jobs and then shot through like a Bondi tram. Nick was never happy in one place for long. Oh well! She supposed he’d come back when he was ready.

At the crunch of tyres on the red gravel driveway Maggie glanced out of the window to see Wilma getting out of her car, elegant as ever in a cream trouser-suit with a scarlet blouse. Her face and fingernails were painted to match and the merest touch of henna in her hair gave it golden highlights that glinted in the sun. Maggie felt a rush of pride in her beautiful smart daughter, successful business-woman, wife and mother. If only Sue could have done so well! Fat chance now that she’d finally married that young no-hoper. He’d be more trouble than Speed Gordon.

Wilma’s heels clicked on the cement as she hurried along the pathway through the fernery to the back door paying no heed to the stag-horns and maidenhair fern that she usually admired.

‘Hallo, Wilma love,’ greeted Maggie with a smile. ‘Come in and sit down. Would you like a drink?’

‘Johnny Walker on the rocks, please Maggie,’ said Wilma with a sigh as she flopped into a chair.

‘Whiskey? Bit early in the day for you, isn’t it?’ said Maggie going to the fridge for the ice. ‘Where’s Andrew?’

‘Bernie’s taken him to the beach. Yes, maybe it is a bit early but I really need it.’ Wilma’s lip trembled. ‘Oh, Maggie! It’s so terrible! I don’t know what I’m going to do.’ And she burst into tears.

‘Wilma! Whatever is it?’ Maggie was thoroughly alarmed. Wilma was always so strong. She never cried. ‘What’s up?’

‘It’s Bernie!’ sobbed Wilma. ‘He wants a divorce! He’s in love with someone else.’

‘Oh Wilma! Bernie’s always flirting. He’s always been the same. You know what he’s like. Give him a bit of time. It’ll all blow over.’

‘Not this time. He’s been seeing her for months. Every time he takes Andrew to the beach it seems. Now he wants to marry her! Oh Maggie! What can I do?’ Wilma buried her face in her hands.

Maggie passed over the drink. ‘Here! Get this into you. When did he tell you this?’

‘Last night. After we closed. It had been a quiet night and we closed at midnight. When all the staff had gone, Bernie said he wanted to talk. Then the whole story came out.’ Wilma took a swig of her whiskey. ‘Katie, her name is. She came with the Benson’s party one night. I don’t remember her but apparently Bernie fell for her like a ton of bricks and has been seeing her ever since. And taking Andrew along as a cover-up, what’s more! And all along, here’s me thinking how lovely that he was taking such an interest in the kid.’

‘You didn’t suspect anything?’

‘Well, yes! But I thought it was just one of Bernie’s usual little flings. You know how he is. There’s always been some little bit of skirt hanging around. But it’s never been anything serious.’ Wilma took another swig. ‘You know, I really thought he’d settle down after we adopted Andrew. But now he wants to leave us.’

‘What about the business?’

‘He wants to sell it. Reckons he’s had enough of it. Never had wanted it in the first place, so he said. That it was all my idea.’

‘Well, so it was!’ said Maggie staunchly. ‘And just look what a success it’s been. You’ve been the one who’s made that nightclub what it is today, Wilma. I’ve always said that. Bernie couldn’t have done anything without you. All he’s ever wanted to do was get drunk and fool around. I knew from the very beginning he was no good. I couldn’t stand a bar of him when you first brought him home. But you wouldn’t listen to me. Any more than Sue did.’

‘Oh don’t bring Sue into it, Maggie,’ pleaded Wilma. ‘Bernie and I have had a good time together for over fifteen years and he’s worked hard to make Bernie’s Place what it is today. I couldn’t have done anything without him.’

‘Humbug!’ snorted Maggie. ‘You could run that place by yourself. The boys will stick by you. Specially Duncan. Dig your heels in! Tell Bernie get to hell out of it.’

‘I can’t do that, Maggie. He wants his share of the money. It’s got to be sold.’ Wilma drained her glass and passed it over. ‘Another, please?’

Maggie scooped out some ice from the bowl and poured a generous shot of whiskey over it. ‘Then you and Andrew will have to come back here and live with me,’ she said. ‘And Duncan and Cora. It’ll be nice to have a crowd in the house again.’

‘No. I’ve been thinking.’ Ever practical, Wilma was growing stronger as the whiskey took effect. ‘I’ve got that other place across the road, you know. That’s in my name. There’s that big old house there. It’s pretty dilapidated but I’d have the money to do it up. I could turn it into a really exclusive club. A venue for weddings and functions.’

‘What a wonderful idea! Oh, Wilma! You’re a marvel! I’ll drink to that.’ Maggie poured herself a drink and they touched glasses, laughing. ‘Here’s to Wilma’s Place! Drink up, love! There’s only a couple of shots left in the bottle. We may as well finish it off!’

CHAPTER THREE

Amy gave little Paddy a slap and plonked him into his high chair. ‘Sit there, you naughty boy!’ The child sat solemnly watching his mother sweeping up the peas he had upended all over the floor. He did not cry. Slaps were common and he was already hardened to them.

Amy swept the peas into a grubby heap along with the dust, dirt and general debris of the floor. She squatted down heavily, sighing as she scooped them into the bowl. Standing again was an effort and she grabbed the edge of the table to pull herself up. She rinsed the peas under the running tap. Most of the dirt went down the drain. They’ll do, she thought. Pete’ll never notice. Anyway, you have to eat a peck of dirt before you die, or so they say.

Amy was pregnant. Again! And Paddy barely walking! But what joy to have a tiny baby to hold in her arms again, soft, snug, warm and utterly dependent. Maybe a little girl, blue-eyed, dainty and pretty with blonde curls. Not like Paddy, the big lump, who clumped his way around the house pulling things out of cupboards, peeing on the floor, breaking cups and plates, falling over and yelling, clanging saucepan lids together, demanding food and drink all day long, and generally making such a nuisance of himself that Amy could have cheerfully throttled him sometimes. Only when he was asleep did she feel a great surge of love as she tucked the blankets around him and stroked the hair away from his eyes. Dear little Paddy! It wasn’t his fault he was such a little shit. But right now he could stay in his highchair while she got Pete’s tea ready. She gave him an arrowroot biscuit to keep him quiet.

Reaching into the back of the cupboard under the sink she pulled out a bottle of sweet sherry, swallowed a few gulps and put it back, safely hidden away. She lit a fag, singing along and wiggling her ample hips with the Andrews Sisters on the wireless (something about a boogie-woogie washerwoman) as she peeled the potatoes.

Pete would be home soon, tired after working at the dockyards and then the long tram, train and bus ride home. He would want a bit of a nap and his meal before showering, getting dressed up in his black suit, starched shirt, cummerbund and bowtie and hurrying up to Wilma’s to wait on tables.

‘Oh, give me land, lots of land, under starry skies above,’ Amy sang with Bing Crosby as she mashed up some vegies for the baby and spooned them into his eager mouth. Paddy would eat anything. His mouth always opened at the first sign of food. Feeding him was a quick job. Dampening the flannel, she wiped his face, fingers and feet, stripped off his clothes and put him into a grey-looking nappy and pyjamas and popped him into bed with his bottle.

Back in the kitchen she had another quick drink, lit another fag and threw some sausages into the frying pan, pricked them with a fork and moved them around till they were golden brown and then turned off the gas, all to the accompaniment of Glenn Miller’s big band beating out In the Mood.

‘Hope you’re in the mood because I’m feeling just right,’ sang Amy, tapping her feet. The back door opened and Pete walked in.

‘Oh-ho! In the mood, are you?’ he said giving her a playful slap on the bum.

‘G’day, Big Boy!’ Amy grinned, digging him in the ribs and jigging around.

‘Ohh! Cheeky!’ he laughed grabbing her wrist. ‘Come here, baby!’ He pulled her to him and they kissed, tongues teasing, hands groping and his knee pushed in between her legs. Laughing they moved towards the bedroom.

‘Where’s the sprog?’ Pete asked.

‘Asleep. I put him down early. He’s been a little bugger today. First up, this morning he …’

‘Spare me the gruesome details, babe,’ Pete interrupted, unbuttoning his pants. ‘Let’s get on with the more important stuff.’

It was all over in a few minutes.

‘Want your tea now?’ asked Amy but Pete was almost asleep.

‘No. Later. Wake me up at eight o’clock.’

Amy lay there listening to him snoring before dozing off herself. When she woke it was quarter past eight.

‘Oh, bugger it!’ She jumped up, straightened her clothes and shook Pete. ‘Come on, mate! Wake up! Hurry up! You’re late!’

Pete grunted. ‘Huh? What time is it?’

‘Quarter past eight. Come on! Move yourself! Else you’ll be late and have Wilma on your back.’

‘Why didn’t you wake me at eight o’clock like I told you?’

‘I did! You went back to sleep.’ lied Amy flouncing out to the kitchen to warm up the food.

Pete wearily dragged himself up from the bed, had a shower, a shave and a shit, donned his waiter’s togs, smoothed some Californian Poppy over his hair, combed it back and pushed it forward to form a small wave. He surveyed the result in the wardrobe mirror, noticed a few specks on his suit and gave it a good brushing down. Wilma expected all the waiters to look impeccable.

Amy wolf-whistled him as he came into the kitchen for his tea. He gave her a mock bow. ‘Good evening, madam,’ he said in his most professional voice. He sat down as Amy cleared a space at the table and put his meal in front of him.

‘What? Snags again?’ he complained. ‘What about the steak?’

‘Tomorrow night. I had to use up these sausages. They’re about ready to go off.’

Pete eyed them suspiciously, cut off a piece and sniffed at it. ‘You’re sure they’re all right?’ he grumbled.

‘‘Course they are! Think I’m trying to poison you or something?’

Pete gobbled down his food, raced in and cleaned his teeth, checked his hair again, gave Amy a quick kiss and set off up the road leaving her reflecting on what a gorgeous hunk of man he was. She couldn’t believe her luck that she had caught him.

Amy had no illusions about her own looks. She was a frump with a mass of bushy black hair too tangled to comb out properly, oily skin that always looked as if it needed a wash, teeth yellow from smoking and a figure that, although it could not be called fat, was certainly a bit on the heavy side. She wasn’t much of a catch and if it hadn’t been for getting up the duff with Paddy she might never have been married.

She stared at the pile of dishes on the sink, the accumulation of junk on the table and benches, the food-spattered highchair and the grubby floor with its one patch a bit cleaner where she had swept up the peas. Gawd, what a mess! There was never time for any cleaning up with a baby in the house. And oh, how she hated housework!

The roar of a motorbike out front told her that Sue and Bill had come to visit. They came in, arms around each other, laughing.

‘Hallo, you kids!’ greeted Amy. ‘What’s the big joke?’

‘Bill’s going to be a waiter!’ laughed Sue.

‘Ha! Another one of the family in a monkey suit!’ cackled Amy. ‘You’ll be sorry! Wilma’ll work the arse off you!’

‘Oh, Wilma’s all right!’ said Bill. ‘I’ve worked for her before, remember? Bloody washing dishes. She’s okay as long as you do the right thing by her.’

‘Have you got all the clobber?’ asked Amy.

‘Wilma’s lending me some things of Bernie’s to begin with. Just to see how I go, like. I start on Tuesday night. A nice quiet night to get the hang of it, Wilma says. After that, it’ll be Friday and Saturday, same as Pete,’ said Bill glancing around the room. ‘Got anything to drink, Amy?’

‘‘Fraid not, love. But here!’ Amy scrabbled in her purse and brought out a five-pound note. ‘Duck back up to Wilma’s and get us a bottle of plonk and a couple of beers.’

But Bill waved the money aside. ‘Don’t be silly! I’ll get it! I got paid tonight.’

‘So did Pete! Take it!’ insisted Amy but Bill was already out the door.

‘Come on, Sue! Let’s sit down,’ said Amy clearing away a pile of newspapers and magazines from the lounge and plumping up the cushions. ‘How are you, love? How’s married life?’

Sue blushed, her face radiant. ‘Wonderful! But guess what?’

‘You’re pregnant!’ laughed Amy. ‘It’s written all over your face!’

‘Oh, gosh! Is it really? We want to keep it a secret for a while. I haven’t even told Mum yet. But I was going to tell you. You won’t say anything, will you Amy? Specially to those two up there?’ Sue nodded her head towards the neighbouring houses where Betty and Bessie lived.

‘You might as well tell them,’ laughed Amy. ‘They’ve been betting on it for weeks. Ever since you announced you were getting married in five days time.’

‘But they were wrong, weren’t they? I wasn’t pregnant then. It’s only just happened.’

‘Well you’d just better hope it doesn’t come early. They’ll be counting the days.’

‘Let them!’ said Sue indignantly. ‘Anyway, how are you?’

‘Oh, I’m all right, love. Bit pukey in the mornings but not too bad.’

‘And Paddy? How’s he?’

Amy raised her head and rolled her eyes. ‘Up to as much mischief as ever. Honestly, Sue! I can’t keep up with him! He’s into something every two minutes. Just look at the place!’ She swept her hand around to indicate the general clutter of the room. ‘You want to know what he did today?’ Sue nodded and Amy went on. ‘He got into my grocery cupboard, pulled down a new pack of sugar and broke it all over the floor. Then he piddled in it and sat down. I thought he was being too quiet. So I went to investigate. And there he was, the little bugger, eating it!’

Sue burst out laughing.

‘All very well for you to laugh,’ scolded Amy. ‘Wait till it’s your turn. You’ll laugh on the other side of your face then!’

Bill arrived back with the grog. He found some glasses among the dishes on the sink, rinsed them out and started pouring the drinks.

‘None for me, thanks, love!’ warned Sue.

‘Oh, come on, Sue!’ said Amy. ‘Don’t be such a wowser!’

‘It’s not that,’ said Sue. ‘I just don’t like the taste that’s all. Gosh! How could I be a wowser growing up in our house? Mum was trying to get me to drink beer when I was only nine years old.’

‘Try this!’ said Bill passing over a glass of pale pink bubbly liquid. ‘You’ll like it, I promise you. It’s a shandy. Lemonade with a dash of sherry. Give it a go, love.’

‘Well, here’s looking at you!’ said Amy and they all clinked glasses. ‘Here’s to us! And a better bunch of bastards I’ve yet to see.’

‘I’ll drink to that!’ said Bill, swigging some down. Sue tried hers and did the same.

CHAPTER FOUR

Duncan adored Cora. She was petite, vivacious, curvaceous, talented, reliable, a hard worker and a wonderful lover. She could drift around the floor with a fat old bank manager, charm the socks of the toughest crime boss, subdue an aggressive drunk with a soft touch and a gentle smile, and keep an eye on every member of the staff while still chatting to the women about the latest fashions or home decorating styles.

And she was so fussy! Every tablecloth had to be spotless, every chair leg dusted, every knife, fork and spoon polished to perfection, every wineglass sparkling and every serviette folded to such geometrical precision as to please Pythagoras.

She had helped Duncan build his business from a handful of customers two nights a week to a packed house six nights. She had organised Saturday night floorshows, often performing herself, playing the Hawaiian guitar and dressed in a grass skirt, a lei of frangipanni, with hibiscus in her