Closed Doors

by Lisa O'Donnell

  ‘Da,’ I say, ‘is Ma going to be OK?’

  He starts to say something else, but before he can answer Ma starts yelling. He runs away then and forgets to turn the light off, but I leave it on because I don’t want to sleep in the dark, not with Ma screaming in the other room.

  TEN

  DA BRINGS HOME a puppy called Frankie. Ma loves him. I love him. Granny hates the sight of him but since it makes Ma happy she gives her best smile and feeds him the leftover stew. The dog loves her stew. This makes Granny like him a little bit more.

  The dog is Ma’s protector and my best pal. He is a black Lab and everyone wants to pet him. Da says he paid a pretty penny for him. Ma likes that Da spent money on the dog because Da never spends money on anything and Da loves how pleased Ma is to have her own dog. During the day Ma and I try to teach him tricks and at night when Ma goes to work she and Da take the dog with them up the high street. Frankie makes people stop on the road and talk to Ma and Da like normal, it’s like people like you better with a cute dog and they forget things.

  ‘He’s not big now, Michael, but he’ll get big,’ says Ma.

  ‘How big?’ I say.

  ‘As big as this!’ and she opens her arms and grabs at me. I get shy in my mother’s arms, especially when she holds me so tight I feel I might suffocate. She lets me go and gives me a wink. It’s the nicest she’s been in ages.

  Frankie sleeps in Ma and Da’s bed, but it’s mostly Ma’s bed. Da sleeps downstairs. I wish Frankie slept with me. Sometimes he jumps on my covers and you can see him thinking about having a wee nap but then he hears Ma coming up the stairs and away he goes to be with her. Ma and Da are friendlier to each other because of Frankie and he’s made everything a bit great again. Granny is mad because he’s not toilet-trained and leaves a mess for her to clean up but I’ve seen Da clean tons of it. We mostly open the back door and let him go in the yard. Da says it’s good for the flowers except we hardly have any flowers. Da keeps promising to get to it but he never does.

  ‘It’s not like you don’t have the time,’ says Ma.

  This makes my tummy go funny when she says this because she’s said something mean to Da and when everything seemed a bit brilliant again.

  ‘I’ll get round to it, Rosemary,’ Da promises.

  Ma pats the dog and says she wants to take him for a walk by herself along the shore. This makes Da a wee bit hurt but he agrees and Ma takes Frankie down to the beach.

  While Ma’s with Frankie Da goes down to the hardware store and buys a shovel and some fertiliser, some seeds for nice flowers and starts to dig the whole garden up, but then it starts to rain and the whole garden turns into a swamp and when Ma gets back it makes her laugh and she pats Da on the back for trying. I’ve never seen him so pleased, but then Tricia Law comes to the house and he is less pleased. She comes to apologise to Granny for her bad behaviour. She brings flowers and looks really sore for being so nasty and drunk. Ma hugs her and invites her in because they’re still best friends. Granny and Tricia light their fags and Ma makes everyone a cup of tea, but I still hate her. I don’t care if she’s Ma’s friend, she goes in the bushes with Marianne’s da and she’s not nice to mine. It’s a good day for Ma though, she loves to talk, but Da is nervous around Tricia and her ‘big gob’ and hides in the living room watching the football. I join him and Da gives me a look and we have a wee laugh together about Tricia and Skinny Rab, but then Da pulls himself together and chases me while he does his coupon. It’s Da’s dream to win the pools one day and go to Disneyland. It’s also my dream. Ma says he could take us tomorrow if he wanted but Da reminds her his old man’s money is for something special. This makes Ma sulk because the only special thing she can think of is having her own house.

  I stand at the door and listen to Tricia Law gossip about all kinds of things but mostly about Dirty Alice’s da who has opened his curtains and is going to the pub. This makes everyone pleased for him.

  ‘He’s getting out and about. Best thing for him,’ says Ma.

  ‘But he gets very drunk,’ says Tricia.

  ‘Is that a fact?’ says Granny in a funny voice.

  ‘No need for sarcasm, Shirley. Haven’t I said I’m sorry already?’ says Tricia.

  ‘Ah, come on, Shirley. She didn’t know what she was saying,’ says Ma.

  ‘Go on with the story,’ nips Granny.

  ‘Anyway, last Saturday he was seen with that Connor woman, arm in arm staggering up the road after a wild night in the Ascog Disco. She did everything except pull her knickers off and stick them to the ceiling.’

  ‘Disgusting,’ says Granny.

  I have not peeked through Mrs Connor’s window in a long time and I feel bad about her throwing her knickers about.

  On a day like this, drinking tea with Tricia and laughing about Mrs Connor, Ma seems to be getting better, but when Tricia leaves Ma will grab for her books again or her knitting. She’s also stopped smoking. I’m glad. I hate cigarettes. I especially hate being sent to the shops for them all the time. It’s boring and there’s never any change left over for some sweets.

  Granny says, ‘It’s because the flasher smoked. She can’t abide the smell any more. A shame, that, because she always liked a good smoke.’

  I don’t think it has anything to do with the flasher because everyone Ma knows smokes, including Granny. I agree with Da and think it is because Ma wants to be someone else since she was flashed at, as if being someone else will make it go away. I wish I could make the flasher go away, he has caused no end of trouble for us all.

  Da is pleased Ma has stopped smoking because she smoked more than anyone and he was getting sick of all the yellow on the ceilings and on the white porcelain Wally dogs Ma got from her own ma and da when they were alive, when she wasn’t an orphan.

  Ma also prefers to drink coffee, which I love because it smells so nice. She says it keeps her awake. Da says she shouldn’t drink it at night but that’s when Ma drinks it the most. She says it helps her with her studies. She says she doesn’t get a minute to herself to read during the day and of course she works at the school in the evening.

  Ma has a professor and everything. She talks about him all the time. It makes Da annoyed.

  ‘Well, isn’t that dandy?’ he’ll say when she tells a professor story. Ma just ignores him.

  Ma likes to keep herself busy. Granny says it’s good to be busy and that it takes the mind off sad things.

  ‘Like Grandpa Jake?’ I ask Granny.

  ‘That’s right, like Grandpa Jake, but sometimes it’s hard, son, the mind can be cruel and you can’t help thinking about lost things.’

  ‘What kind of lost things?’

  ‘Don’t you ask a lot of questions, Michael Murray?’

  I don’t expect her to say anything more but then she says to me, ‘I miss dancing with him. He was a good dancer, your grandpa.’

  I feel sad when she says that because whenever she is stirring at the watery stew she sways like a boat to the radio. She is dreaming of dancing with Grandpa Jake. This is why Granny takes such a long time to make the stew I think: chopping the carrots and peeling the onions, frying the meat and adding the flour. It can take for ever sometimes. I still wish it would take a hundred years because I hate to eat it, even if it does bring her closer to Grandpa Jake. I bet he hated it too.

  ELEVEN

  MRS ROY SAYS I am too quiet for my own good and makes Da come to school. Ma is busy with her studies and can’t come.

  ‘I’m sorry, Michael. I’ve a ton of work to do. Da can go,’ says Ma.

  ‘Can I?’ says Da.

  Ma almost growls at him but settles on a dirty look instead.

  I don’t want anyone to go, but I still think mas should see teachers and not das. Da thinks the same and is angry at Mrs Roy for dragging him all the way to our school from Barone because it’s a long walk and he will have to do it all over again in the evening when he walks Ma to work with Frankie.

  Sitting with Mrs Roy
and Da feels strange to me. Da can hardly sit on the seat she gives him because it’s only for boys and girls and not my da with his huge arse and fat legs. I sit next to Da but Mrs Roy suggests I play a game or something because she wants to talk about me.

  ‘It’s the noisy kids you need to watch out for,’ says Da.

  Mrs Roy says, ‘It is the quiet children who need the most attention.’

  Mrs Roy tells Da I used to be very noisy but now I am as quiet as a lamb. She says she is worried about my schoolwork and I never finish anything I start. She wants to send work home. I don’t want her to send work home. I can’t play football then. I hope Da says no. He doesn’t and it makes me not want to talk to him ever again.

  ‘A lamb she called him,’ says Da to Granny.

  Granny laughs and Ma smirks. This makes me mad at Ma because she wasn’t even there.

  ‘Is that right?’ Ma says to me. ‘Wish you were a lamb around here.’ She gives me a wink and I ignore her. She doesn’t even notice. She just writes her little words in her little notepad because she is studying and not caring about anything except her schoolwork and her stupid professor.

  ‘Cheeky cow asked if there was anything going on at home,’ says Da. ‘I told her to mind her business, but I knew what she was getting at.’

  Granny nods in my direction and reminds Da I am sitting there having a scone even though I know what they are talking about and how everyone thinks Da beat my ma, even Mrs Roy.

  The next day at school I am noisy. I jump on my school chair and sing Celtic songs. Then I call Mrs Roy the worst name I can think of. The headmistress is called and Da has to collect me from school. I am suspended for a week.

  It is one of the greatest shames to be suspended. It’s like saying I will go to jail and I am a terrible boy who will become a criminal one day. Ma gets very upset and Granny says she doesn’t know what she’s going to do with me. They are worried about the neighbours and what people in the town will say.

  ‘Like they’re not saying enough about us already,’ cries Granny.

  Da says nothing at all and takes me to the loch with Frankie.

  It is a quiet walk. He doesn’t say anything about standing on a chair or singing Celtic songs at the top of my voice and he especially doesn’t say anything about me calling Mrs Roy a ‘a fucking old witch with bushy hair’.

  ‘It’s going to be OK,’ he tells me.

  I know he is talking about Ma and himself and the town and all the other things it is wrong to mention. I want to cry, but I also want to be brave for my da. I tell him I am sorry for being bad and I will be a better boy. He gives me a hug and tells me to do my best.

  Even though it starts to rain we go all the way round the loch, but it’s a warm rain and I don’t mind one bit, but then Da wants to go through the park where Ma was flashed.

  ‘No, Da,’ I say, ‘let’s go down the high street and get some chips.’

  He doesn’t want to, he wants to walk through the park and find the flasher, and so he steps on the grass with Frankie, but Frankie sinks into a puddle of mud and gets so dirty Da has to pull him away with the lead. He looks into the park and shakes his head.

  ‘Let’s go get something to eat,’ he says.

  We walk away and I am glad.

  TWELVE

  I CAN’T SEE Mrs Connor dance. Dirty Alice threw a stone through Mrs Connor’s bedroom window and tried to blame me. Luckily Fat Ralph saw the whole thing and everyone was very sorry to me. I got twenty pence from Ma and Da and a chocolate biscuit from Mrs Connor, who had really yelled at me and nearly made me cry. My ma was very angry at Mrs Connor afterwards and I was pleased.

  ‘I think I should go over there and say something to her. Cheeky cow.’

  ‘You thought it too,’ says Da.

  ‘So did you,’ says Ma back at him.

  ‘I never thought it,’ says Granny, which was true. Granny grabbed on to me while they were all shouting and told them all to leave me alone.

  Now the window’s all boarded up.

  Da says Dirty Alice is all crazy because her dad is over there all the time digging and fixing things for Mrs Connor, like the window Dirty Alice smashed. Mrs Connor brings Mr McFadden tea and biscuits while he holds a big shovel or is standing on a ladder for her. Da says it is good Dirty Alice’s da is getting on with his life, but Granny and Ma think it’s disgusting because they don’t like Mrs Connor even though they smile and wave at her every time she walks by the house.

  ‘Maria would turn in her grave,’ says Granny.

  ‘Maria would be glad her husband has a bit of company,’ says Da.

  ‘There’s a lot of men on this island who’ve had her company,’ says Ma.

  Ma has made a joke and it’s a big thing in the house because she barely laughs at anything any more. This makes Granny laugh harder to remind Ma how funny she can be. I don’t think it is funny; it’s a mean thing to say about Mrs Connor. Da thinks the same and I am so mad I go play with my football.

  Mr McFadden likes Mrs Connor a lot because I’ve seen him smiling at her when she’s walking away from him. I saw my da smiling at my ma when she was walking away from him once, but I don’t think she liked it.

  ‘What do you think you’re looking at?’ said Ma.

  ‘Nothing at all,’ said Da.

  Luke wasn’t there when his da was staring at Mrs Connor but I don’t think he would have gone mad or anything like Dirty Alice did. Luke likes it at Mrs Connor’s house. He has his tea there sometimes, so does Dirty Alice but she sits in the yard with a plate on her lap. Mrs Connor must hate her and love Luke because he’s so clever. Luke really sucks up to grown-ups. They love him and always say nice things about him.

  ‘Takes flowers to his mother’s grave every Sunday since she passed,’ says Granny.

  ‘A beautiful boy,’ says Ma.

  Ma cries whenever she sees Luke walk by with his flowers. Granny crosses herself. Da says, ‘A fine lad.’ I play keepy-uppies and don’t look, especially when he’s dragging Dirty Alice with him.

  Mrs Connor will probably marry Mr McFadden now and have babies. Dirty Alice won’t like that one bit and neither will I. Mr McFadden will catch me if I look through the window and I’ll get my arse tanned, but worse than that everyone will know I’m peeping at Mrs Connor.

  THIRTEEN

  MA GOES TO college in Greenock. Da hates it. She takes her books in the leather bag that used to belong to Grandpa Jake. She goes early in the morning on the six-thirty boat and comes back at five in the evening in time for tea. Then she’s off to work to clean the school floors. At night she is exhausted and falls straight to sleep.

  ‘You’ll kill yourself at this rate,’ says Granny to Ma.

  ‘It’s worth it. I’m learning so much, Shirley.’

  ‘Like what?’ says Granny.

  ‘Shakespeare. You should see how badly women get treated in his plays. S’terrible.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, they’re not free, are they? They’re always passed from father to husband. And they’re never trusted, sometimes they’re murdered.’

  ‘Murdered you say? Jesus save us.’

  ‘Sounds like a load of shite to me,’ says Da.

  Ma ignores him and I ignore Ma. She’s never around these days and always off somewhere. Da says she’s running away from herself but then he gets a look from Granny, which means he shouldn’t say things like that around me, like the scandal of Tricia and Skinny Rab. When it all came out Da and I just tittered and winked at each other. We were secretly glad Tricia and Skinny Rab had gotten themselves caught for running into bushes together. We don’t like Tricia any more even if Ma does.

  Now everyone knows about it, especially all the kids. It’s all out and whispered about behind dirty wee hands.

  Kids are mostly not allowed to know anything about grown-up stuff. Marianne’s ma and da are probably fighting about it every night but Marianne will be asleep or pretending it’s just a normal fight. She’
ll ignore the stuff about Tricia Law and she’ll be glad when her da says sorry to her ma. She’ll pretend and hope everything is fixed so she can get on with the talent show that’s never going to happen anyway. She will never cry, not in front of us, and she will never tell, even though we all know anyway because most of us listen at doors. Sometimes I imagine Luke and Dirty Alice finding out about their ma having cancer while listening at a door or maybe they were sat down and told properly. Probably not. Kids are always the last to know anything, except me. ‘He’s quiet on his feet all right,’ says Ma and looks at me suspiciously.

  When they want to speak really privately, they sometimes stop mid-sentence and Granny will say, ‘Little jugs have big lugs.’ I’m sent from the room with the door firmly closed then, but I listen anyway, my ear pushed against the wood panelling.

  Granny says Marianne’s ma might leave the island now.

  ‘She only came here for him, you know?’ says Granny.

  ‘I think she’ll stay,’ says Ma. ‘For the child,’ she whispers.

  ‘Well, I think she should leave for the child. A woman never forgets a thing like that and all they’ll do is fight in front of her and mess her little head up. I say move on and be done with it,’ says Da.

  ‘What do you know about moving on?’ snaps Ma.

  ‘More than you do,’ cracks Da.

  ‘Fuck you, Brian,’ snaps Ma.

  Da doesn’t shuffle his paper this time. He slaps it on the table and off he storms from the kitchen again. He almost catches me at the door but I get away in time. He’d go mad if he caught me spying.

  After my dinner I go to the car park to practise my keepy-uppies and find Dirty Alice drawing with a stick on the gravel. I sneak up behind her and find her drawing a love heart. I want to run and not see, but she’d hear me, so I scare her out of her wits and give her time to rub out the heart in the gravel.

  She screams at me. ‘What did you do that for?’