Papa continued to live out the back of Nonno and Nonna’s in Coburg. A man and woman, unmarried, might not live together in 1959. Besides, if Mother married Papa, she would have to leave her job. She didn’t want to leave her job. She enjoyed her financial independence and the way Mr Goodwin deferred to her on issues of spelling, punctuation and syntax. Once a week, on Sunday mornings, Papa and Mother had sexual relations in the too-soft double bed in Mother’s East Melbourne flat; she assured him she had everything in place to prevent conception. Papa asked no further. He says Mother seemed to like the arrangement, though he could never be sure as, at the end, as a general rule, she sat up, opened the curtains and brushed her hair vigorously for about half an hour, saying nothing but looking very cross.

Demure in her work guise as Miss Gray, at home Mother said exactly what she thought: she nicknamed Mr Goodwin ‘Cane Toad’ on account of his acne scars and Franck ‘Cherry Ripe’ on account of his repulsive red mouth.

Ultimately, when the time came, she was happy to get married and leave Goodwin & Franck, because of Mr Franck. Franck criticised her handwriting. He commented on the cuts and colours of her outfits. He liked to dally in the office out of hours and find ways to prevent Mother from leaving. Once, he patted her on her bottom when she stood next to him taking dictation. Papa always said the name ‘Franck’ like he was eating something disgusting and needed to spit it out.

ROSA

123 Acland Street was slow in finding its clientele. People wove from the beach to the streets and sometimes made it to the restaurant, where the fan whirred overhead in summer, turning the hot air round and round, and the icy wind from the sea filtered through the many draughts in winter. But often it was empty.

Papa employed one waitress.

Much to your disappointment, this waitress was not you, Ornella. You would’ve liked the freedom. Instead, you were holed up at home being Nonna’s slave labour in the kitchen and learning the arts of marriageability. A marriageable woman needed to know how to cut and pin and tack and reinforce seams. Nonna had an overlocker. She could alter a pattern to ‘fit like a glove’. She knew high-quality store-quality. She had worked for Manton’s, even if it was as an underpaid piece-worker. So Papa left you in Coburg to sew and hem and instead employed Rosa Ferros, squat as a toad, plain as a chicken-house (until she smiled, and then you were dazzled by her beauty).