Women Who Talk Pt. 01

"To be honest I have no idea," Penny confessed, "I met her once, briefly, before the photo shoot, the other two are models. None of the people in the poster are part of the group and from what I recall of Cheryl she had a place in Sydney at the time, but how did she know your grandmother? Was she an actress herself?"

"Virginia was a schoolteacher out at Strathcona, but she had a lot of gay friends. She never came out, she used to say that she liked her closet because it was... cosier in the closet but Auntie Cheryl read the eulogy at Nanna's funeral."

"Strathcona?" Penny's eyes flickered to Helen as the older woman sipped her cup of water. "I went to Strathcona, what was her last name?"

"Heywood but it was changed from her married name, Rosenboom twenty years ago."

"You're Ms Heywood's granddaughter?" Penny stared at her with renewed interest, "she was my Humanities teacher for the last two years."

"She was?" Robyn's eyes widened, "well, it's a small world," she tapped the other flyer for Cindy's Creations, "she took me to Cindy a few months before she died."

"You know Cindy as well?" Penny raised an eyebrow, "long dark hair, has a dressmaking business in Kilsyth?"

"Nanna took me to her to get a suit made, it was when they told her she had six months left. Cindy measured me that first time and I met her one more time when she finished the suit, she lived in Kilsyth but even though I live here now I haven't seen her around. I was fascinated by her sewing room, I've been interested in dressmaking ever since but it's not like I've got room at our place to do anything like that."

"You live in Kilsyth?"

"Yeah, Anita Street, I moved down from Warburton."

"Then you're almost neighbours with Anne," Penny nodded at her, "she's in Beatrice Street."

"Oh," she turned to look at her and then nodded, "I had the feeling I'd seen you before walking to the shops here but hadn't realised it was you."

The usually strait-laced Anne straightened up and touched the hair clasp at the back of her head.

"I didn't know that," Anne smiled, "where do you work?"

"The real estate office in Croydon Main Street, just two doors down from the arcade."

"That's a coincidence," Anne grinned, "I bought the house in Beatrice Street through them."

Robyn's smile deepened, exposing her dimples and then she turned back to Penny.

"So, do you know Cindy?"

"I do," Penny adjusted her tie as she considered this information.

Helen finished her second cup and deposited the polystyrene cup into the bin and ambled over to the desk to speak to Anne about the files she was taking home.

"But to answer your question about the coffee shop," Robyn spoke again.

"We have kids coming in off the street who need a safe place to meet their friends and talk about their issues. I admit that we don't talk much about sex but that's not my decision to make. I'm just passing out flyers and trying to make a difference. People need to feel understood, like they're not alone," she glanced quickly at Helen.

"We all need to feel like there's at least one person who loves us," she finished.

"But why a solicitor's office?" Penny asked.

"You're a family law practice," she replied, "you must have single parents sitting here who might need a place to send their children, the coffee shop is a safe place."

Penny glanced at her and then nodded.

"Okay, you've earned your spot on the board," she turned to it, "let's make some room."

Some thirty seconds later the flyer was pinned to the wall and Penny looked at it first and then at the other flyer. Helen picked up the files and her purse and walked over to join them at the noticeboard, she read the flyer and smirked.

"Cool, I might check it out myself, I'm off now," she nodded at Penny and with that she turned on her heels and walked out leaving Penny alone with Robyn.

"Tell me more about women who talk," Robyn smiled.

Penny ran a hand through her hair and then fell into a familiar routine. That of spokesperson for the organisation.

"It's an organisation of autonomous groups where women gather to talk without fear of being judged, laughed at or made to feel as if they've broken some unwritten rule. Some are former clients, but others are in business for themselves or work for others. We're divided into different chapters because we meet in each other's homes and have to keep the numbers at an acceptable level. Our chapter, the White Rose, was the first and we number about fifteen most months," she nodded at the poster.

"Cindy is our oldest member and the youngest member is Kathy, she's twenty three. We have no membership fee but if you turn up to one of our meetings you bring a plate of food, and an open mind. We have no barriers to sexual orientation, position in society or relationship status. We discuss anything and everything from sex and politics through to fashion and makeup. All are welcome if they're prepared to listen and share. We started the first one two years ago and we've recently registered our seventh group, the Daisy Chain."

"Well that's a pretty broad age range, I'll be twenty one in two months, can any woman go to this group?"

"It's generally by invitation," she replied, "if we opened up the door we'd never fit all the women into one house."

"Of course," she smiled, "I wish my nanna was still alive, she would've loved your organisation, it's just bizarre to see Auntie Cheryl again."

"How did your grandmother die? If you don't mind me asking."

"Cancer," she replied, "and if I was to go along to this group I'd be honouring her memory."

"Even though you're a Christian," Penny raised an eyebrow.

"The Christian community is a broad church but you're right, they do tend to treat sex as if it's a four letter word, even though it only has three letters. My attitude towards sex is more liberal than that of many other Christians. Our pastor is an ex Hell's Angel and he put it quite nicely when he ran a seminar on sex and sexuality. He said that if God invented sex then he must have had a smile from here to eternity when he thought of all the innovative ways people could use to have sex. The only rule the bible has about sex is the prohibition against infidelity but it's not just Christians who don't like infidelity, atheists are the same."

"Exactly," Penny smiled, "why don't you come to our next meeting?"

"Okay, I'd like that. So, what happens at these meetings?"

"We have a barbecue and then the host starts it off by giving a theme. Most people bring meat for the barbecue, but others bring salad, finger food, party pies. It's always a bit of a mish mash, coffee, tea and soft drinks are provided but if you want booze it's BYO only."

Penny stepped over to the counter and wrote down the address and time on a piece of paper.

"It's at my house this month," she handed her the paper, "and I'll make you a deal. If you come to my meeting I'll turn up at your coffee shop just to make sure it's not some weird cult."

"It's not a cult but I can understand some people might think it's a cult. It's a fairly laid back church, I prefer it to my mum's church in Warbie," she read the address, "Mount Dandenong?"

"Top of the mountain, it's got nice views of Melbourne."

"Okay, thank you for putting up our flyer," she put the paper in her jacket pocket, "and I'll be there on Friday," she held out her hand.

"No worries," Penny shook her hand.

A few moments later Robyn stepped back and after nodding at Anne she fetched her handbag and walked out. Anne glanced at her monitor and tapped the keyboard.

"I hadn't realised she lived in the next street."

"It's okay," she shrugged, "it's one of the more interesting conversations I've had today."

She looked up as she heard Charlott coming out of one of the conference rooms on the other side of the dividing wall behind the reception counter, she was talking to their newest client.

"Yes, yes, that's true. I couldn't agree more."

Lisa looked up from her computer as Penny strolled back into the office and Penny smirked as she walked to the window to look at Robyn walking towards her car. Her eyes narrowed however as she saw Helen sitting behind the wheel of her black Toyota four wheel drive. She must have just bought a cup of coffee from the milk bar and was now having a cigarette.

"So, what did she want?" Lisa glanced at her.

"It's a flyer for a Christian coffee shop run by the church across the road," she paused, "she's the granddaughter of my old Humanities teacher at Strathcona."

"Oh right," Lisa turned to look at Robyn as Charlott walked into the room.

Yeah, and she's coming to my meeting on Friday as well," she stared at Helen as Robyn drew closer, "don't do it, Helen for fuck's sake."

"My God, she's like a bitch on heat," Lisa winced, "what's the bet she says something."

"Who's a bitch on heat?" Charlott asked as she headed to her desk, which was backed up against Lisa's desk, "oh," her eyes shifted, "I see it all now."

As the three women watched, Helen casually raised her cup and said something. Robyn paused in mid stride and then angled towards her and Charlott chuckled.

"Well that was predictable although I can't say I blame her."

"All right, ladies," Penny ran a hand through her hair, "let's not stand here like men on a building site, we've got work to do."

Nevertheless, as she walked back to her desk she found herself thinking about the grey-haired teacher who had worn clothes very similar to the ones her granddaughter was wearing now.

I must call on Cindy, she mused as she sat down at her desk. It was only then that she recalled the last time she'd seen someone wearing that particular style of blouse.

Ms Heywood, her eyes narrowed, surely not? She picked up her mobile phone and slid the keyboard cover down, it's possible, she mused. She was about the same height.

She was still thinking as she waited for Cindy to answer the call.

"You must see a few four wheel drives back in Warbie," Helen took another sip from her coffee.

"I surely do," Robyn looked at the paintwork, "but not like this. Who did the paint job? It looks like someone used a paint brush."

"I bought it like that," she replied, "I keep meaning to get a quote on a new paint job."

"I'm surprised the cops don't pull you over, this is just cop bait."

"It's a work in progress," Helen protested.

"I can see that," she noted the rainbow dangling from her mirror, "I wouldn't be driving with that dangling from the mirror."

"Why not? It's not a crime to be gay."

"No, it obscures your vision and gives the cops an excuse to pull you over," she took a step back, "how long have you been out for?"

"Since high school," she raised her coffee cup, "I've never had a cock inside me yet, touch wood," she tapped her head.

"Me neither," she took another step back, "well, nice talking to you," she turned and walked into the milk bar leaving Helen staring after her.

The thirty five year old woman took another sip from the coffee cup. In the last few minutes she'd discovered she liked four wheel drive vehicles and had a boyfriend, Jeff. She knew that the brooch came from the jewellery shop in Main Street, Croydon and that her housemate, Erin worked there as well. She added all that to the things she'd overheard in reception. She also knew Cindy but Helen couldn't offer to introduce her, the older woman wouldn't even open the door to her. She glanced at the office window. The bitches inside were probably talking about her but even so, she started the engine it couldn't hurt to make some discreet inquiries.

***

Cindy O'Connor lived in a house on Cambridge Road with her partner, Mary who was twenty years her junior. They'd met by accident, literally, when Mary rear ended her seven years ago, but what should have been a dispute turned into something else entirely when Cindy offered to get her older brother to fix the car and save her the hassle of paying the excess on her insurance. That act of kindness when it was least expected had led to a dinner to express her gratitude and within three months they were dating and some six months later they became same sex partners in a civil union ceremony.

Penny had known her for the last four years after seeing her ad in the local Leader classifieds, she needed a dress mended and the friendship had been born. Since then she'd become a customer who arguably helped the older woman keep her business afloat to the point that Cindy had even offered to make clothes for her free of charge if she'd spread the word for her. It was tempting, but Penny had always paid for her clothes and as it turned out she did pass on the word about the dressmaker from Kilsyth. She was sitting opposite her teacher, Caroline who also lived in Kilsyth.

"I met Virginia through Cheryl," she sat down on the couch, "she was about twenty years older than me, I hadn't realised she was your teacher though. She was only at Strathcona for about two years, she took retirement after that from what I recall."

"Yeah, I can't recall her before Year Eleven," she balanced the cup of coffee on her leg, "it's a small world for sure."

"I remember the granddaughter well, she was a polite kid but you can tell she's a country girl. She has that honest face and what you see is what you get, I remember when I measured her up, Virginia said she was the same size as herself when she was younger."

Penny leaned over to put the coffee cup on the table.

"That's curious, the blouse she was wearing today looked very similar to the one her grandmother wore."

"It probably was," she replied, "Cheryl brought around two suitcases of clothes for her a month or so after the funeral. She was the witness to her will, there was a dispute between her and the mother about the clothes and some other personal items."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Virginia's will was quite detailed. She'd done a complete inventory of her worldly goods right down to the broom in the hall closet. Robyn got the clothes simply because they fitted her and some jewellery, some of her music collection and a few other bits and pieces. The mother got a third of the house when it was sold, the other two thirds went to Robyn and her older sister, Hannah."

"So, what was the dispute about? Surely she wasn't pissed off about worldly goods, unless they were luxury items."

"It wasn't the value of the goods," Cindy looked at her, "it was just down to bitchiness. Dorothy is a bible basher and about as homophobic as they come. She resented her mother for being gay even though she was discreet about it but she was living in a house her mother had paid off a few years previously so she couldn't let her anger spill over. That only happened after Virginia was laid to rest, she tried to lay claim to the house and contents but Cheryl moved too quickly and it went to court," she drained her wineglass.

"There were other beneficiaries though. Virginia had two children and five grandchildren, she also left things to friends too. I'll never understand some women," she stared out at the deepening dark, "she wanted the lot, lock, stock and two smoking barrels. In the end she got fuck all and her own brother turned against her."

"Was it anger over her gay mother?"

"More than likely but there might be underlying causes. Virginia could be quite wild when she was your age. She was having affairs with women while she was still married but certainly by the time I met her she'd settled down," she leaned over to put her glass on the table.

"So, you've invited her to the White Rose?" Caroline spoke up.

"Yeah, and I'm going to the coffee shop."

"Interesting exchange," Cindy eyed her.

"She's interested in dressmaking though, she mentioned you by name at the time."

"I'm not sure I've got enough work for her, I make a profit on what I do now but hiring someone might be overextending myself," she glanced at Caroline, "you'd be better placed to help."

"Well, I'll be there this Friday, I'm dropping the kids off at Sigrid and Louise's joint but our classes won't be taking any new applicants until the end of the year. We've just completed our intake for the second half of this year but maybe between the two of us," she glanced at Cindy.

"Maybe," she frowned, "she could sit and watch us work and learn something."

Penny shifted in her seat and looked at her watch.

"She's got a job in real estate, but I'll leave that up to you to decide. I was just asking about Virginia to be honest," she glanced at her watch, "and on that pleasant note I have to get going, I'll see you on Friday as well?" Penny glanced at Cindy.

"Count on it," Cindy also rose, "unless I can tempt you with something else?"

Penny stared at the door to her sewing room and managed a tired grin.

"You couldn't help yourself, could you?"

"I've just received the latest batch of patterns, there's a lovely dress with a shawl collar and a clasp at the side."

"Maybe," she frowned as she slipped her hands into the sleeves of her coat, "tell you what I'd really be interested in, a blouse similar to the one Robyn was wearing today. That double-breasted look always looked smart without overdoing it."

"So you're saying I should ask Robyn to bring it over," Cindy raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe, hopefully she's there tomorrow night and you two ladies can... ambush her, but I might look through the school pictures in that junk room of mine, I'm bloody positive Ms Heywood wore that same one for a class photograph," she flipped her hair over the collar.

"In fact I think she even wore the same fucking skirt," she turned, "give my love to Mary when she gets home, see you Friday," and with that she was heading out the door.

Her suspicions were proved correct about three hours later as she pulled another box into the centre of the room and finally found the framed portraits from her school days. She only had two school photos up in her bedroom, the personalised ones that parents paid extra for, the class ones however had gone back in the box because she'd grown tired of looking at them and they also brought back memories she'd rather forget.

It was true, she studied the photo. Ms Heywood had worn that blouse, the skirt and the jacket, her silvery-grey hair was tied back in a ponytail. A much younger Penny Jones was standing at the end of the line at the back and now she could see the resemblance. It was not so much the features even though she could see Robyn's mouth, it was her height and body type. She found the second picture a moment later, Ms Heywood was a year older and had put on a little more weight. This time she wore a pussybow blouse and knee-length skirt.

Penny turned to look at the junk room and perhaps because she'd been talking to Cindy about a new blouse she ran a critical eye over the assorted junk. Granted it was an organised mess of boxes on top of boxes, exercise equipment, an old television set, an older record player that could have sold at an antique auction these days and she hadn't looked in those cupboards in over twelve months. The original idea had been to turn this into an exercise room when she moved in over five years ago but gradually other things had been moved in here until now the only evidence of her grand plan was the exercise bike and walking frame.

I really should gut this fucking room, she turned the light out, and put it to good use, she turned right and headed along the balcony overlooking her expansive living room with its vaulted ceiling and large windows overlooking the city of Melbourne.

"Like a sewing room," she spoke out loud as she rounded the door and headed to her home office, "there, I've said it out loud."

A few minutes later she scanned the pictures into her room and sat with her feet by the electric fan heater while she waited for the pictures to appear on her monitor. They looked grainy even with a top quality scanner but at least now she could zoom in and examine the blouse in more detail. The buttons looked to be the same, the light from the camera flash had almost dissolved a couple on the left hand row and the buttons on Robyn's blouse were kind of shiny.