1972 - Driving.

I didn't know I was pregnant when I started my driving lessons in November 1972.  P had only taken one lesson with his father in their VW bug, but it had traumatised him so badly that he never wanted to drive again.  I booked lessons through Ace and my driving instructor picked me up outside City Hall at lunchtime.  I started to get into the passenger side but he insisted that I get behind the wheel of the beautiful, big red Ford Falcon sedan.  I was terrified, but he had dual controls so I felt better when I knew he could correct any bad move I made.

We drove through the heavy city traffic out to Rosalie, a very hilly suburb not far from the city.  The drivers' licence issuing centre was located there and my instructor wanted me to be familiar with the area as well as practicing hill starts and reverse parking (parallel parking to those in the USA).  Remember, these were the days of micro mini skirts and my instructor had the annoying habit of patting my bare thigh whenever he approved of my driving.  He also spent a lot of time telling me how his wife misunderstood him ... really, he must have thought I was an idiot!

I had lessons every day of the week except Sundays, then passed my driving test first time.  It was very easy in those days.  The tester settled himself into the passenger seat then asked me about 5 questions, all of which I got right, before we drove away for my test.  We were allowed to drive in bare feet, which I thought was essential because the high platform soles of my shoes didn't allow me to feel the pedals.

Dad's job allowed him to pick out the best of the cars coming off lease and so I ended up at Eagers Holden picking up my HG Kingswood Station Wagon, a 3-speed manual with a 161 engine that I later swapped out for a 186 to give it a bit more power.  It had the best driving and maintenance record and although it was 1 year old, cost me only $1,500 from my inheritance.  I was very nervous driving with passengers, but loved driving on my own.

The first weekend I collected Mum, Dad, J and V (P couldn't stand being around my parents) to drive out to Somerset Dam.  We had a lovely lunch by the water then drove the loop to come back through Ipswich.  They were quite impressed with my driving and I was very proud.  Needless to say, I was the only one not drinking that day.  P thought my driving was a great idea, because now he had someone to drive him to and from the pub, but to me it was a wonderful sense of independence and freedom ... I loved it with a passion!

Seaspray - iridescent pale sea green

Dad and V

Dad and I

J and Mum

V, J and Mum

Inside domestic violence.

Most people, when they hear about domestic violence, can't understand why that person doesn't simply leave their painful situation.  I can't answer that question for everyone, but only from my own perspective.  I thought I loved P and really believed him when he said he was so sorry and it wouldn't happen again ... until it happened over and over.  Some part of me believed this was normal behaviour since Mum and Dad obviously loved each other, but they fought like cats and dogs every time they were drunk.  I never got drunk and I couldn't bring myself to fight back, but simply tried to get away from him ... sometimes successfully and other times not.

You can't imagine how frightening it is to watch that change suddenly come over someone you love.  One minute he's loving and gentle, then the next minute his pupils have dilated and he's screaming accusations at you and belittling you while he puts his hands around your throat.  Then suddenly, he switches back again into his Dr Jekyll persona and can't understand why you're crying and don't want to kiss and cuddle him!  It was so bad that when he came home drunk, my mouth would dry up and my palms would start sweating as I waited for something to set him off.  I didn't even have to be in the same room!  Once he slipped over as he staggered into the toilet then came roaring into the lounge room where I was watching TV to beat me for pushing him over.

The physical abuse is bad enough but he employed verbal abuse as well to grind down my self esteem until I lost my self respect entirely.  Constant threats and intimidation worked to turn me into a pathetic doormat.  When we would go to a function together, I would look only at him or the table, otherwise he would accuse me of making eyes at some guy in the room and punish me for it when we returned home.  He never did anything to me in public, so nobody suspected and all his friends thought he was a wonderful man ... they still do!

I became pregnant in 1972, but the beatings took their toll and I miscarried: what my Gynaecologist called a "missed abortion", because I couldn't tell him I was in an abusive relationship.  My GP had thought he could prevent the miscarriage by prescribing Valium 5 mg tablets, four times a day.  P sent me to stay at Mum and Dad's house while I was sedated. I was so out of it that I wasn't aware of how much time passed and my dreams were in vivid Technicolour.  After four weeks there (in my mind only a couple of weeks had passed) it was obvious that the pregnancy was over.  Dad took me home to a flat (actually it was half a house) next door to P's Mum and Dad.  P had moved us out of our furnished flat into this unfurnished dump while I was away.  We could never get rid of the mice!  His parents had given us P's double bed, dressing table and wardrobe.  I climbed the fence into their yard to do our washing in their machine, but we needed furniture fast.  His Mum and Dad bought us a laminated dining table and six chairs and my Dad made some of my money available to me to buy the rest.  I bought a 12 cu.ft. Kelvinator two-door fridge/freezer, black & white TV, a buffet, 4 seater lounge with two chairs and footstools.  I then had to go into hospital for a D & C, my first time under an anaesthetic.  We ended up living in that horrible place from 1972 - 1980.

In November 1972 I became pregnant again and despite some early bleeding my tough little daughter, MLC, hung on and was delivered safely in July 1973 weighing 9lb 5oz.

The honeymoon is over!

We quickly settled into a routine.  We’d walk to Nundah train station together then from the city station walk to City Hall in the morning.  Working in sections only separated by a waist-high divider we would often have lunch together.  The reverse journey every afternoon was the same except that the moment we walked in our front door, P would sit down and turn the TV on then ask “What’s for dinner?”.  I taught myself how to cook pretty quickly because P ‘acted’ as though he was completely useless in the kitchen.  He only knew two temperature settings on the stove, either off or full blast, so he burned everything he ‘attempted’ to cook.  He claimed to be a “meat and potatoes” man and also demanded a roast meal every Sunday for lunch.  I had grown up with Mum’s international cooking so I loved Chinese, Italian and Greek cuisine to supplement everyday Aussie food, so I found his bland tastes very constricting.

Being Winter, the football season was in full swing so he was kept busy with training sessions on Tuesday and Thursday nights and if the team’s prospects were good toward the end of the season, training would also take up part of Sunday.  He played Australian Rules Football in the major competition in Brisbane and the games were played on Saturday.  I didn’t mind him playing, in fact I was very proud of him but it was all the boozing afterwards with his mates that caused all the problems.  He came home drunk from every training session and I had to watch him get drunk after every Saturday game.  Once he started drinking, he wouldn’t or couldn’t stop until he was very drunk.

As soon as he got home in this condition, my own personal nightmare would start.  One minute he would be affectionate and loving, then something would set him off and he would become violently aggressive.  For example, one of his friends had just come back from his tour of duty in Vietnam.  Poor GS came back to find his world had changed while he had been away.  None of his mates, including P, had been conscripted into service so they had all moved on with their lives without him.  He came back to find himself at a loose end and frequently dropped in to visit us at our flat.  Apparently P suspected he was dropping in to see me, but didn’t mention anything to him.  Instead he took it out on me during his first drunken attack in our flat.  P wanted me to have sex with him and when I said “No” he went berserk.  I saw his pupils dilate until there was almost no colour left in his eyes.  He accused me of having sex with GS and my denials fell on deaf ears as he started to hit me.  I ran into the bedroom and slammed the door shut but he put his foot through the door and broke into the bedroom.  He proceeded to hit me until I couldn’t get up, then he passed out.

One of my mother’s favourite expressions came back to haunt me, “You’ve made your bed, now you have to lie in it”.  I couldn’t go home, I was too ashamed to tell anyone … not my best friend or my twin sister.  The next morning he claimed he couldn’t remember any of it, but after he saw the huge bruises on my body he promised that it would never happen again and went out to buy me flowers.  The next time he came home drunk, I thought I could avoid the violent consequences by saying “Yes” when he wanted sex.  You can’t imagine how disgusting it is to have sex:

1. When you don’t want to
2. With a completely drunk man

It was like making love to a jellyfish and apparently I couldn’t fake that it was the best thing in the world, because he went berserk anyway beating me while he demanded to know who my lover was!

This became the routine in our marriage for the next 16 years.  Summer was better as he didn’t meet up with his mates quite as often, except on special occasions such as Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and his birthday in February.

1971 - Part 2

We stayed our first night as a married couple at the Park Royal Hotel, beside the Botanic Gardens in the city.  As we were both too nervous to eat at the reception, we were starving when we arrived and ordered burgers from room service.  We were preparing for bed when I realised that I had left my birth control pills at home and quickly phoned my parents' number, hoping to speak to my sister.  She assured me that she would bring them to the airport in the morning.  We slept well and arrived at the airport early to find only Dad waiting for us.  He told us Twin had fallen down the stairs and twisted her ankle making it impossible for her to see us off, but he reassured me that she was OK.  As our departure time drew nearer, I timidly asked Dad if Twin had given him anything to give to me.  He said "Oh yes" and started patting his pockets, then produced a sealed envelope.  You can't imagine my relief as I felt the blister pack of pills through that envelope.

Our flight to Mackay was uneventful and we booked into a Motel for a couple of nights, because our cruise didn't depart until Tuesday.  We wandered around Mackay a bit, but there really wasn't anything much to see.  At the harbour, we boarded one of Roylen Cruises' five converted PT boats.  Each boat slept only eight guests and our cabin didn't have a solid door: there was a gap at the top and the bottom.  It had never occurred to us that we would have to sleep in double bunks attached to the wall. Apart from our wardrobe, the only other item of interest was a wash basin in the corner.  The bathroom and toilet were at the end of the corridor.  The toilet (the correct nautical term was "the head") was more like a throne because you had to walk up a couple of steps to perch on it. ☺

My husband immediately spotted an acquaintance among the crew of another boat, RG.  I was less than impressed to see him because he had spent most of one night at P's parents' house trying to convince P not to marry me.  I knew this because I had stayed the night and instead of sleeping peacefully in P's bedroom, I spent most of the night listening to RG and P's increasingly drunken discussions about our upcoming nuptials.  He finally convinced P that it was a really bad idea so P sneaked into my room and started hunting around looking for my engagement ring.  Knowing this would happen from the tone of their conversation, I had already slipped it off my finger and hidden it inside the pillow case.  He tried to wake me, but as I was playing sound asleep he eventually gave up his search and staggered back out into the dining room to rejoin RG in another drink.  It never occurred to me at the time to worry about the enormous influence P's friends had over him, but I learnt over time that I came a poor second in relation to his mates, while his children were hardly a blip on his radar.

On our boat one of the deckhands was tall, tanned and blond so P immediately regarded him as a threat, telling me he didn't like the way this guy was looking at me.  I told P that I hadn't even noticed the man until he pointed him out, but of course P didn't believe me.  The rest of the guests were older married couples who quickly deduced we were on our honeymoon, so every morning and each time we went to our cabin for any reason we suffered good-natured jibes on our return above deck.

Our boat took off into the Whitsunday Passage and it was very rough!  We made the fateful mistake of sitting in the bar and it took only a few minutes of watching the alcohol in the bottles sloshing from side to side for us to become horribly sea sick.  P followed me downstairs to the toilet where I was violently sick, then he promptly followed my example.  After cleaning ourselves up, we took to our bunks and fell asleep.  When we awoke, there was no motion from the waves and we quickly realised we were tied up at the wharf at Lindeman Island.  To our horror, everyone else had gone ashore and the boat was about to pull away to allow another boat to dock.  We scrambled ashore as quickly as possible and swore we would never set foot on that boat again ... I nearly kissed the ground!  However, after a few hours of wandering around that beautiful island among the tropical flowers and plants, we decided to persevere with our holiday.  When we boarded again, the crew told us the only way to avoid seasickness was to stand at the bow and never to go inside.  If only we had know this trick earlier!

We visited Lindeman, Hook, Hayman, Brampton and Daydream Islands.  Some nights all the boats would tie up side by side at a wharf, using planks to get from one boat to the other, then we would all go ashore to enjoy dinner and dancing at one of the resorts.  We were having a lovely night at Daydream Island when RG asked me to dance.  I didn't really want to but felt I should remain civil.  He behaved himself and seemed quite nice, but suddenly P jumped up and stormed out.  When we all returned to our boats, I found him propped up at the bar.  When I suggested it was bedtime he pointedly ignored me so I went downstairs to our cabin alone.  Apparently the bar stayed open as long as someone wanted to drink so I didn't see him again until morning.  We never discussed that incident.

The rest of our trip was marvellous.  We caught fish in crystal clear water ... it seemed like cheating to me because I could see the fish open its mouth to take my bait and only had to yank on the line to catch it.  Our fresh catch was cooked superbly by our on-board Chef and I fell in love with Red Emperor and Sand Snapper. 

One day we boarded a Dingy to spend some time on Whitehaven Beach.  Remember this was the middle of winter but between the snow white sand and crystal clear water, we were sunburnt within 30 minutes.  Worse still, the outboard motor on the Dingy broke down so we were stranded there for a couple of hours.  We sat in the water with soaking wet towels over our heads to try to save our skin from burning any more, but I was horribly blistered by the time they picked us up.

We eventually returned to Mackay where we were scheduled to board the Sunlander to return to Brisbane.  To our dismay, there had been a problem on the rail line somewhere south of us and we were told we wouldn't be leaving until midnight.  We explained our predicament and begged the nearest hotel's desk clerk for a room for just the day.  It wasn't too expensive and we rested until it was time to return to the station.  We left just after midnight and were very comfortable in our private two-bed sleeper.  When we woke up we were travelling slowly past workmen rearranging gravel at the side of the track.  I asked P to close the blinds so I could get out of bed but he told me it was one-way glass and they couldn't see me.  I disagreed saying "I'm sure that man is looking straight at me!" but P just said I was imagining things, so I got out of bed and got dressed.  As we left the train in Brisbane I looked with horror into every sleeping berth as we walked along the platform.  I glared at P and said in an icy voice "One-way glass?  Really?"  At least he apologised, but it didn't make me feel any better ... I've never been an exhibitionist and those men had gotten an eye full!

We arrived at his parents' house where we would stay until we could rent ourselves a flat and after one night, we were prepared to rent anything just to get out of there.  We ended up with a one-bedroom, fully furnished flat at Nundah ... one room was a combined kitchen/dining/lounge room with a front door, the other room had a back door and was a decent sized bedroom with a small bathroom/toilet off that, all for $24 per week including electricity.

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