‘Where’s the kitchen?’
‘There isn’t one yet. I have to …’
‘What about a laundry?’
‘Out the back. A couple of troughs.’
‘You’ll need an electric copper with a wringer. Babies make a lot of washing.’
‘Yeah, all right.’
‘You can’t have your wife living on a building site.’
‘I know. I’ll fix it up.’
Gran turned to Vivien. ‘Do you feel sick in the mornings?’
Vivien nodded. ‘All day, Gran.’
‘So that’s why you only played with your food. You’d better come and live here until Ed gets the place decent.’ She turned to Eddie. ‘I’m going to look after this girl. No man can understand.’ She turned to Vivien. ‘You sit close to the stove; you’re frozen to the bone.’ She turned back to Eddie. ‘Go and collect Vivien’s things. Bring back some dry ginger.’
‘Viv’s things are in the truck.’
‘Don’t dilly-dally then. Bring them in, get the dry ginger and some more change for the meters. Vivien can have a hot bath while we make up your old bed. We need to get this girl tucked in and cosy.’
When Eddie left, Gran sat close to Vivien. ‘Now, my girl. Have you told your people?’
‘I had to get my father’s consent, so they might guess. My sister will be happy for me. She has a baby girl.’
‘Won’t your mother want to come to your wedding?’
‘No. She’d never attend a civil wedding. Eddie and I will be living in sin as far as she’s concerned.’
‘Poppycock! She’ll forgive the sinners when she sees her grandchild.’
Vivien smiled at Gran, admired her forthright approach to life. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Mum doesn’t forgive or forget. Perhaps she’ll soften when the baby is born. She’ll never admit even to herself, I had to get married.’
Gran snorted. ‘Huh. I’ll run that bath.’
By the time Eddie joined Gran in his old bedroom, she had already lit a fire; together they made up the bed. After she’d warmed the sheets with a copper heating pan, Gran brought Viv into the room wrapped in the old man’s dressing gown. Gran pulled one of her own long flannel nightdresses over Viv’s head and helped her into bed. Eddie watched her snuggle down in the large bed, with its brass bed-head, feather mattress and pillows. The sickness must have eased because she drifted off to sleep, seemingly unaware of anything.
While Vivien slept, Eddie sat by the kitchen stove with Gran and waited for her verdict.
‘I don’t know what you mean by getting that girl in trouble, but at least you’re standing by her.’
‘She’s only marrying me because she’s pregnant.’
Gran pierced him with her direct gaze. ‘If she doesn’t care for you, why are you so anxious to marry her?’
‘I mean to have her.’
Gran shook her head so hard the pellet of flesh on the side of her jaw wobbled. ‘Tsk tsk. Well, that’s your business; the baby’s what’s important now. Your mother lost two before you were born. She never had a moment’s rest while she was carrying the first two, so I stepped in and took over when she was pregnant with you. Made sure she had proper care before your birth and a decent lying in time after. Her own mother died young.’
Eddie frowned. ‘You never talk about mum. Why did she lose the other babies?’
‘I sometimes think she was too gentle for this life. Tiny, bird bones, long fair hair, even fairer than Ida’s, and the sweetest smile. She’d melt anyone’s heart. I know your father loved her, but he had no idea how to look after her. He spent most of his time at work or his lodge at night.’ Gran paused and looked deep into the stove’s fire. ‘You were a strong, healthy baby and she loved you, but she didn’t really recover. The consumption set in when you were a toddler and then there was nothing anyone could do except keep her as comfortable as possible. That’s how you came to live with me.’ She paused again and looked directly at Eddie. ‘I think he took his pain out on you.’
Eddie remembered beatings, Gran’s fiery protection if she was nearby and nodded. ‘I’ll do me best to look after Viv.’
‘For now, the best thing you can do is sleep at the shop and get busy making a decent home for your family. You can come at weekends and take her out, but ….’
Eddie knew what Gran’s ‘but’ meant. He’d see to himself while Viv was pregnant. No use taking risks. ‘Suits me. Thanks Gran. I don’t know what to do when she’s sick. Will it wear off?’
‘In a couple of months she should feel better.’
‘Where’s the old man in all this?’
‘He’s out most nights. He likes Vivien. We’ll all get along very well. I’ll get out the sewing machine and knitting needles.’
Eddie could see Gran was tickled by the thought of Vivien’s company as well as caring for her. He was glad to be out of it.
At the wedding two weeks later, Vivien was still crook, Chris turned up, all furs and perfume, her fancy man at her side, poured charm all over Gran and the old man who witnessed the do. After the afternoon tea, Vivien rushed to the lav to heave her guts out, Chris glared at him, shook hands with Gran then left. The whole palaver bored him witless so he was glad to go back to the empty shop.
Eddie scrounged second-hand building materials, fluked some new wooden planks and plenty of paint from builders who’d gone belly-up. He found a decent cash register and glass-fronted shop counter in a builders’ yard for next to nothing together with rolls of linoleum with a red and orange brick pattern. He re-varnished the shop counter, painted the walls, shelves and the pressed-tin ceiling in a pale green colour with some of the paint he’d wangled. He figured he had enough left over for the other downstairs rooms. He’d have to cadge a bit more for what Viv wanted upstairs. Pale blue with a navy blue dado, for Gawd’s sake.
Ron, the butcher from next door, often dropped in to see him around lunch time and admired Eddie’s handiwork and brought him a freshly cooked hamburger or snags. They sat on planks of wood and yarned.
‘You doing a mighty job, Ed. The street needs a mixed business. You should do well.’
‘You doing all right yerself, Ron?’
‘Picking up. Still mostly the cheaper cuts, but the Sunday roast is on the up. Still sell a lot of bunnies. Got a bloke who sells ‘em by the dozen; make a nice profit.’
‘That’s what it’s all about, Ron. Makin’ a bit more than a decent livin’. I’ve got a few ideas for this shop, extra items, you know.’
‘Yeah. That’s what it takes. When’s your missus comin’ to join you?’
‘Another few weeks, I reckon.’
Most weekends Eddie visited Footscray and usually found one or the other at the sewing machine or clicking knitting needles, but as Viv began to feel better, she agreed to walk around Footscray on Sunday afternoons. Once he took her to see the Footscray Park, pointed to the Victory Statue at the entrance.
‘They call that the Citizens War Memorial. I can remember Gran telling me about everyone chippin’ in to put it up in memory of those poor buggers who died in the war.’
‘I suppose if you’d lost someone you loved in a war, a memorial would keep them alive in some