The House at Bexley and the end of the marriage

In 1979, we bought a house. I say “we” – but it was Michel who chose the house in the end. I did not like his choice, but I had not say in the matter. I found out later that the house had belonged to Lebanese people and that was the main criteria for buying it. It was a Federation house mostly in original condition, but with a sun room out the back. The kitchen had also been renovated. Apart from that the house was mostly in the original condition. The dining room was a funny room to the side of the kitchen, and I had plans of turning it into a bedroom. I liked the sunroom out the back: it was cool and it was a great room for my sewing machine – up until then I had to put the machine on the kitchen table or in the spare room which also double as Pierre’s bedroom most of the time. Now I had a room of my own; I was very pleased with it. I furnished it with a wall hanging of an Arabic scene and I had my sewing machine set up permanently and a sofa and some chairs. It was the only thing that pleased me about the house.

The house was situated on the east side of Bexley shopping centre off Forest Road, and was a little out of the way. There was a long walk down to Rockdale or a walk from Bexley after catching the bus. The only good thing was that the school was now very close. Elizabeth had started school the previous year and had to take the bus to get to school; now she walked a few blocks.

There was very large backyard, just grass, and a garage. The garage was mostly empty, although at one point I did use it to make some drawers for a bed I had managed it acquire. This surprised Michel that I went out and bought some wood and made up some drawers from scratch to fit the sedan bed – all dovetail joints, too. It should not have surprised him: I was, after all, the daughter of a carpenter and I had learnt how to do this at a very early age.

Michel continued to work long hours – he now had the excuse that he had to pay the mortgage. The situation of our married life went up and down: at one point I remember we appeared to be making headway and had in a way reconciled. However it did not last and I recall most of the time I lived in the house that I barely tolerated Michel when he was home. He had given up on the “no talkies” some time ago; I had told him that he was hurting no-one but himself when he did it, and that I positively enjoyed the period when he was not talking to me. So he stopped doing it.

Most week nights Michel went to bed fairly early. On Weekend days he spent the time with us, his family, but went out of a night to visit his friends. I was very happy to see him go and I let him go happily and had the house to myself. I preferred it that way.

In the past six months of my time in the house out sex life was mostly non- existent, I could not bare the sight of him and I had no feelings for him at all. I had gone off him completely.

After about 6 months at the new house, I decided to get a job. I had been thinking about getting a job to get some independence from Michel. I had no money of my own and I found it irksome. The idea was not popular. I got a job as a cleaner “assistant” in a kindergarten, which allowed me to take Pierre with me. It was a very difficult time for me. Pierre did not like the pre-school, and acted up, and I found the work very tiring and hard. At one point I was asked to do the personal ironing of the owner. She thought I was obstreperous when I told her I did not know how to undo an ironing board – but I had never seen one opened and genuinely did not know to unlock one. I had to iron the husband’s underpants! It was an education. Mostly I spent the day cleaning – little toilets, the floor over and over etc. After two weeks the owner told me I was not suitable. I was relieved and left gladly. I was exhausted and ill by the end of the second week. The chronic fatigue I was suffering from at times was exacerbated by all the physical work. Michel’s attitude to me working did not help – he made no effort to help me – in fact he sabotaged me as often as he could. He did not like me working because it meant I was not available to look after him – ie be a housewife.

The gall bladder problem continued to dog me and got worse in the second year at the new house. I became quite ill and spent a lot of time at the hospital. I was booked to have my gall bladder removed in the March of 1980. I was losing weight because I was not eating – I found it painful to eat any fat and eventually I stopped eating almost everything – the gall bladder was upset when ever I ate.

In February 1980 I took an unusual step of sending Elizabeth to my mother’s and to school at Jannali near her place, as I was sick enough not to be able to cope with her and Pierre. I hoped that by the time I had the operation I would be able to have her back with me. Michel was making it difficult for me to schedule the operation and was balking at looking after the children while I would have been in hospital. We had several arguments about it. He was not amenable to helping me with my health problems at all.

I prepared myself for the surgery by making a will – not that I expected to die, but I decided to get my affairs in order anyway. All I had to leave was a few paltry possessions like a sewing machine. This act was to cause trouble later on.

Late in February I became very ill and took myself to hospital where I was admitted with a bladder infections and malnutrition. I was so malnourished the doctors said that they could not perform the cholecystectomy until I had improved. I had spent too much time without eating anything nutritious that I was lacking the fat-soluble vitamins that enable the blood to clot. I spent 2 weeks in hospital on a drip before I had the gall bladder removed.

It was while I was waiting to have surgery that the will issue came up. Pierre had been sent to join his sister at Sutherland with my parents, and I was happy to stay in hospital where I could get treatment at last. Michel had come to visit me. I mentioned in passing that I had made a will, leaving my possessions to my children. He was furious and ranted and raved at me in the ward asking how I could do such a thing – if I made a will my possessions should go to him not to the children – the whole ward heard him. I was flabbergasted and astonished. After he left I walked up and down the ward, trailing my drip stand, in a fury. This was it – I was not going to put up with this any more – I was not going to return to Bexley after I got out of hospital. I had decided. This was the last straw in a series of humiliations and mortifications.

After the surgery I went home to my parents’ place to recuperate. I asked my parents if I could stay. They said yes, and thank God, we had been waiting for you to say this – I knew my parents had a policy of not interfering in the marriages of their children. I was a little surprised that they were waiting for me to come home. I had been unhappy for so long, it felt strange to be home.

My father and I went to the house at Bexley about two weeks after I left hospital with the trailer and I loaded up the minimum furniture I needed for myself and the children, and took all our clothes. I left a note for Michel saying I was leaving and would not be coming back.

That evening, of course, I had a visit from Michel. He was distraught. How he couldn’t have seen this coming I don’t know. Like a lot of men whose marriages fail, he did not think his marriage was in trouble. He commented that the fact I had left him to go home to my parents was more mortifying than if I had left to run away with another man; it appears that the fact that I just no longer wanted to stay married to him was worse that me as an adulteress. He got down on his knees and begged. I was adamant. He should have known that once I had decided to go there would be no going back.

A few months later his brother came from Lebanon to see me in an effort to get me to return to Michel. Naturally I did not – I did not even want to speak to him – it served no purpose at all. He left disappointed.