Lindsay Armstrong - An Unsuitable Wife

Her eyes came back to rest on Mike Brennan’s face. ‘It’s very nice,’ she said briskly. ‘What instruments do you carry, Mr Brennan?’

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘I think you’d better call me Mike—uh—radar, GPS, auto-pilot; twenty-seven meg, VHF as well as Single Side Band for radios, Auto-Seaphone and the motor is a Gardiner.’

Sidonie’s grey eyes suddenly shone with enthusiasm. ‘Lovely,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I had something to do with a very old Gardiner once but it was a gem. GPS? Do you know I’ve always been fascinated by satellite navigation—I know the old salts think they’re expensive toys but I think it’s thrilling!’

He said nothing for a moment but there was no disguising the surprise in his eyes. ‘So you do know something about it?’

‘Quite a bit,’ she confided. ‘My boyfriend and I used to do a lot of sailing on Port Phillip Bay—that’s off Melbourne—’

‘I have had some experience of Port Phillip Bay,’ he murmured.

‘Then you’ll know it’s no kindergarten!’

‘Definitely not,’ he agreed and narrowed his eyes. ‘What does your boyfriend have to say about you doing this?’

Sidonie sobered. ‘He’s no longer my—that.’

‘Why?’

Sidonie stared at him haughtily. He shrugged and a wry smile twisted his lips. ‘You might as well tell me. What possible harm could it do?’

She frowned then said reluctantly, ‘I suppose you’re right—although I don’t think crewing means I should have to bare my heart to you or that kind of thing. I—’

‘By no means. OK, it’s up to you.’

Sidonie thought for a bit then she said matter-of-factly, ‘He fell in love with someone else, someone who was all the things I’m not, I guess, although she’s hopeless on boats, but then again...I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.’ She shrugged ruefully. ‘It must be to do with having had an extremely trying day!’

Mike Brennan tried not to smile. ‘Do you drink?’ he queried.

‘Very rarely—what’s that got to do with it?’

‘Sometimes it helps. Why don’t you also take the weight off your feet?’ He pointed to a bar stool and went behind the island bench.

Which was how, several minutes later, Sidonie came to have in her hand a glass full of a lovely chilled white wine and before her on the bench a bowl of walnuts and olives.

Mike Brennan waited until she’d sipped some wine before he said, ‘How come it’s been such an unusually trying day?’

Sidonie put her glass down regretfully. ‘Well, I applied for a job up here—not precisely here but at a small outback school on a large cattle property. They seemed very impressed with my credentials and they paid for me to fly up for an interview so I—’ she paused and grimaced ‘—I rather assumed the job was in the bag so to speak.’

‘It wasn’t?’

She sighed. ‘They took one look at me and...came to the conclusion I wouldn’t suit although what they told me was I was over-qualified for it.’

‘Over-qualified to be a teacher?’

‘Yes. Well, I must admit I haven’t had a lot of experience at it,’ she said ruefully. ‘The one job I did have in that line—er—wasn’t entirely successful but I’m quite convinced the school was more to blame than I was.’

Several expressions chased through Mike Brennan’s blue eyes but he said soberly enough, ‘What did you do?’

‘I—’ Sidonie glanced at him cautiously ‘—I taught them to play poker. At the same time I was teaching them English,’ she hastened to add.

‘How old were they?’ he said in the same sober way.

‘Seven and eight.’

He burst out laughing.

‘It’s not really funny,’ Sidonie remarked reproachfully. ‘Their English improved dramatically as it happened.’

‘I don’t quite see the connection,’ he said, still grinning.

‘It’s simple.’ She looked surprised. ‘We would only have a game if everyone had done their homework and concentrated properly in the lesson.’

‘Quite simple,’ he marvelled. ‘But the school didn’t approve?’

Sidonie sighed again. ‘They said I could be turning them into compulsive gamblers.’

‘What a prospect—you might have been better with Snap and Happy Families.’

Sidonie shrugged. That’s another of my contentions that they didn’t agree with—I think children are often a lot brighter than they’re given credit for.’

‘Well, I agree with you there, but you didn’t actually use money—or did you?’

‘Oh, no, we used broad beans.’

He grinned and offered her an olive.

‘Thanks.’ She bit into it reflectively. ‘So.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘So? Your teaching experience sounds not only limited but disastrous yet you were quite sure you would get this job—forgive me but that sounds a bit rash.’

‘It was,’ Sidonie agreed gloomily. ‘But I really wanted to get out of Melbourne and...’ She trailed off and sipped some more wine.

‘What are these over-qualifications you have?’

She brightened. ‘A BA—I actually majored in English Literature—and a Bachelor of Science.’

‘I’m impressed,’ Mike Brennan murmured. ‘But it seems a rather unusual combination.’

‘Unfortunately—’ Sidonie looked wry ‘—I’m rather unusual. If you must know I quite often feel a bit of a freak and never more so than today,’ she added with a grimace. ‘But I can assure you it’s possible to be interested in science and arts.’

‘I do apologise, I didn’t mean to sound patronising,’ he said gravely. ‘Perhaps you should pursue the scientific side—career-wise, that is—rather than the educational side.’

‘I was,’ she said briefly.

‘So?’

‘I was bored to tears,’ she said solemnly.

‘That doesn’t—does that make sense in light of what you’ve just told me?’ he queried wryly.

‘Probably not.’ She drained her glass. ‘It all rather goes back to my father, who died fairly recently. He was a nuclear physicist, you see, and he could never understand why mechanics was my forte. And when I wanted to get out of the laboratory and actually work among motorbikes and so on—they really fascinate me mechanically—he got very upset. He said it was no job for a girl, which was really strange because he’d always treated me as a son until then.’ She blinked away a tear. ‘So I stayed on, well, with just that one stint teaching—he didn’t mind that—until he died. I do beg your pardon.’ She drew a hanky from her pocket and blew her nose. ‘I’m normally not in the least emotional.’

Mike Brennan said thoughtfully, ‘Losing your father and your boyfriend can be emotional experiences, I should imagine. But what’s stopping you working with motorbikes now?’

Sidonie twisted her hanky. ‘Everyone I approached laughed at me.’

Mike Brennan laughed himself. ‘I wonder why?’ he murmured and poured her another glass of wine.

Sidonie looked down at herself. ‘I know why,’ she said with gentle melancholy and reflected that if one glass of wine made her feel this sorry for herself she ought not to have any more, but it was oddly comforting to be able to be so honest. ‘There just doesn’t seem to be a role in life for me.’

‘At—twenty or so...’ he hazarded, ‘I wouldn’t regard it as a blight on your life yet.’

‘Twenty-three,’ Sidonie said drily, ‘and that’s the kind of facile thing people say but I do assure you it’s no help at all.’

He looked at her thoughtfully, not in least perturbed by her intended slight, apparently, then he said idly, ‘Could I make a less facile suggestion? Don’t wear your hair like that, throw away those clothes—and life might just surprise you, Sidonie Hill.’