Gerald Murnane - A Lifetime on Clouds

As well as a Catholic face there was a Catholic figure — Catholic breasts with gentle curves and not enough prominence to attract unwanted admirers, and Catholic legs with ankles and calves neatly shaped to lead the eye away from the area above the knees. As the years brought her more children, Mrs Denise Sherd would develop these too.

It was only logical that there were also Catholic and non-Catholic pudenda. Although Adrian had got out of the habit of thinking of such things, he allowed himself to distinguish briefly between a modest shrinking Catholic kind and another kind that was somehow a little the worse for wear.

Each issue of St Gerard’s Monthly had a column called The Hand That Rules The World by someone called Monica. Adrian read one of these columns.

‘Recently on our holidays in Melbourne I boarded a tram with six of my seven. (Son No. 1 was elsewhere with Proud Father.) Most of my readers will be familiar with the cool stare of scrutiny which I had from Mrs Young Modern in the opposite seat with her pigeon pair.

‘Of course I returned her gaze. After all, I had far more right to be critical, with six bonny young Australians to my credit.

‘Well, it turned out that she was more interested in inspecting my children than their mother. Of course she was hoping to find a shoe unshined or a sock that needed darning. “Sorry to disappoint you, Mrs Two Only,” I said under my breath, “but while you were gossiping at your bridge party or out in your precious car, I wasn’t wasting my time.”

‘I had the satisfaction of seeing her face fall when she realised my six were at least as beautifully turned out as her two. If we had got on speaking terms I’m sure I would have had to answer the old question for the hundredth time — Readers, are you tired of it, too? — “How on earth do you manage?”’

There was much more, but Adrian paused to think. He wished Denise could have read The Hand That Rules The World. As the mother of a large family she would have to be ready for all those stares and questions from non-Catholics. Monica’s columns were full of arguments that Catholic mothers could turn to when they were tempted to feel discontented with their lot. For instance, she pointed out that bringing a new soul into the world was infinitely more worthwhile than acquiring a luxury such as a washing machine. (And anyway, as she reminded her readers, a thorough boiling in a good old-fashioned copper did a much better job than a few twirls in a slick-looking machine.)

Adrian decided that after his marriage he would send a subscription to the Divine Zeal Fathers so Denise would get her St Gerard’s Monthly regularly.

When his aunt found him reading the magazine she took it politely from him and said, ‘No harm done, young man, but St Gerard’s Monthly is really more suitable for parents only.’ Adrian was angry to think there might have been much more useful information in the magazine that he hadn’t found. He resented his spinster aunt treating him like a child when he was seriously concerned about the problems of Catholic parenthood.

One night towards the end of their honeymoon, Sherd reminded his wife that the natural result of their love for each other might well be a large family. He was about to list some of the problems this might bring, when she interrupted him.

‘Darling, you don’t seem to realise. Ever since I can remember, my mother got St Gerard’s Monthly. It taught me what to expect from marriage and to accept whatever family God might send. And you might think this was silly of me, but after I fell in love with you, one of my favourite daydreams was opening up the centre pages of the Monthly and seeing a picture of the Sherd family from wherever we came from.’

While Sherd and his wife were still honeymooning in Tasmania, Adrian spent ten minutes each morning in the Swindon parish church searching among the racks of Australian Catholic Truth Society pamphlets. He was looking for one simple piece of information. When he found it he would know all that was necessary for his role as a Catholic husband.

Each day he borrowed two or three pamphlets and read them under the desk in the Christian Doctrine period. Next morning he returned them to the racks in the church and went on with his search. He read page after page advising husbands and wives to be courteous and considerate, to set a good example to each other, and to co-operate unselfishly in the upbringing of the children that God sent them. But he did not find the information he needed.

What he wanted to know was how often he should have carnal relations with his wife to be sure of fertilising her as soon as possible after the wedding. He believed there was a certain time each month when it was easy for a woman to conceive. If he (or his wife) could discover when this was, he could arrange to copulate with her on the correct date each month and so make it easier for God to bless them with children.

But the problem was to find when this important date occurred. Anyone could tell when a female dog or cat was on heat from the odd way it behaved, but it was unthinkable that Denise should have to get into a state like that to let him know she was ready to be impregnated. If women were no different from dogs or cats in this respect, the odds were that somewhere, at some time, he would have seen a woman on heat. But in all the years he had been watching women and girls on trains and trams he had never seen one who looked as if she was even thinking of sexual matters.

Adrian searched the pamphlet racks for a week and then gave up. But without the information he could not think realistically about his future. He decided to invent a game that would make his marriage to Denise seem true-to-life.

Each night when he got home from school he took two dice from his brothers’ Ludo box. He shook the first and rolled it. An even number meant that Sherd (the husband) felt in the mood to suggest intercourse to his wife that night.

Before throwing the second of the dice he saw himself saying casually to Denise (they were still on their honeymoon, so the conversation could take place as they strolled back from the beach to their hotel) that it might be nice to give themselves to each other that night in bed. Then he rolled the die.

If it showed an even number, Denise would answer something like, ‘Yes, darling, I’d be more than happy if you used your marriage rights tonight.’ If it showed an odd number she said, ‘If you don’t mind, I’m not feeling strong enough for it. Perhaps some other time.’ And she smiled warmly to show that she loved him as much as ever.

On a night when both dice came up with even numbers, Adrian would rest now and then from his homework and enjoy the quiet contentment that a husband felt when he knew his wife would willingly submit to him a few hours later. But it was almost as pleasant on the other nights to look forward to a half-hour in bed together sharing their inmost thoughts and looking forward to years more of such happiness in the future.

But throwing the dice was only part of the game. Assuming that a woman could conceive on one day of each month, there was one chance in thirty that an act of intercourse would be successful. Adrian chalked a faint line around a section of thirty bricks on the outside of the lounge-room chimney. On one of the bricks near the centre of the marked area he put a faint X. Then he hid a tennis-ball in a geranium bush near the chimney.

Each morning after a night when the two dice had showed evens (and Mrs Sherd had yielded to her husband) Adrian walked quietly to the lounge-room chimney on his way back from the lavatory. He found the tennis-ball and wet it in the dew or under the garden tap. Then he took aim at the panel of bricks, closed his eyes tightly and tossed the ball.