Closed Doors

by Lisa O'Donnell

  ‘It’s late,’ says Ma.

  ‘We have plenty of time,’ says Da.

  Da eventually squeezes the tree into the corner of the room and it doesn’t look bad at all, but Ma still hates it and walks from the room.

  ‘I’ll take Michael to the shops and get the decorations then. Come on, Michael.’

  I run for my socks and shoes but it’s not a nice trip. We stop off at the pub first and Da has another pint. I am not allowed in the pub but I can have a lemonade and a packet of crisps on the pavement outside the bar. It’s cold and my bum goes hard under my legs because Da takes a long time coming from the pub and I’m freezing. It’s also getting dark and I worry Woolworths will be closing.

  ‘Now don’t be telling your ma or your granny about the pint, OK?’

  I nod although I am annoyed I have to lie about something so stupid.

  ‘Let’s go to Woolworths for those decorations now. If you’re a good boy I’ll get you an Advent calendar.’

  I’m sure the selling of Advent calendars is over since Christmas Day is the very next day but maybe if there are any left we might get a good deal on them. I’m hopeful anyway.

  Da swings around Woolworths throwing everything and anything into the basket. I get my own basket for the chocolates. Da says I can have what I want and gets me two boxes of wise men. I am thrilled until I bump into Dirty Alice at the Pick ’n’ Mix. Luke is at the records. I look around for Mr McFadden and instead I see Miss Connor with her own basket; I don’t know what she’s buying. Anyway Da is on her aisle looking for shaving foam and when he sees the woman our family has shamed he jumps a little, but Miss Connor doesn’t notice and seems glad to see him.

  Watching them talk I can see Miss Connor has changed since the attack. She has long dark roots and she doesn’t need the wheelchair any more, although she walks with a limp on account of the damage done to her hip, that’s what Granny says. Miss Connor and Da are in deep conversation when Mr McFadden appears, carrying a hose. You can buy anything in Woolworths. Mr McFadden and Da shake hands. Soon Da is nodding his head a lot, they are all talking very seriously, and suddenly Miss Connor’s crying and in Mr McFadden’s arms. I wonder if Da has told them about Ma. That would be a disaster. Da pats Miss Connor’s arm and she taps at his hand.

  ‘Luke!’ yells Mr McFadden. ‘We’re going.’

  Luke is paying for something at the record counter but when he sees how upset Miss Connor is he runs to her side like the good little boy he is. Everyone in the shop is staring at the drama.

  ‘What did your stupid da say to Louisa?’ snips Dirty Alice, who is not only picking the mixes, she is actually eating them without paying for them. What a little shoplifter. I hate her more than ever before.

  When we get home Da doesn’t mention Mr McFadden or Miss Connor. He just gets busy around the tree. Granny has made mulled wine and I get hot Ribena. Da takes charge of the lights. It doesn’t go well because the lights won’t switch on and we have to spend a long time finding the faulty bulb and then replacing it with one that will make our tree be brilliant. We meddle for hours. Ma drinks all the mulled wine and then falls asleep on the sofa. Everyone forgets about the silver-wrapped wise men I have in my bag. I eat all of them.

  The tree pops and Da is triumphant. It looks beautiful but Ma is asleep and can’t see. Granny admires it but footers around the branches across the radiator.

  ‘I need to cut these away,’ says Granny.

  ‘You’ll do no such thing,’ snaps Da. ‘It’s fine the way it is.’ Da leaves the room with a slammed door. Ma is jolted from her sleep.

  ‘He’ll have us burned in our beds,’ says Granny and pulls scissors from her apron, cutting all the branches that cover the radiator. It makes a C shape. Da will go bonkers, I think.

  Despite the grumbling from Ma she likes the tree but she is upset I ate the chocolates. We turn off the house lights and in the dark the tree sparkles and makes us all glad it is Christmas. It warms the room and for a minute everything feels good. I think of all the presents I will get. I think of the gloves I got for my granny, the comb I got for my da and the chocolates with the pink bear that I got for my ma. Everyone will be pleased. We will eat turkey with roast potatoes, carrots and Brussels sprouts. I hate them but I will get them on my plate anyway. Granny will make her Christmas gravy and we’ll have the pudding she ordered from the catalogue.

  Da wants us all to go to chapel on Christmas Eve but Ma won’t go.

  ‘I have no interest in your icons and candles,’ says Ma.

  ‘Then are you interested that Patrick Thompson is no longer a suspect in the Louisa Connor rape? Not enough evidence,’ says Da.

  ‘Thank God,’ says Granny and crosses herself.

  ‘I wouldn’t look so relieved, Rosemary, because half this town still thinks he did it. Louisa Connor thinks she’s being denied justice. She’s beside herself with grief.’

  ‘At least he’s not going to jail,’ says Ma.

  ‘Jail would be a safer place for him right now. Everyone here hates him. And you do realise the real monster is still out there, that there might be more Louisa Connors, and then what? If anyone needs icons and the forgiveness of God then it’s you, Rosemary Murray.’

  ‘Then why don’t you tell them?’ Ma cries. ‘Go on, tell them. March into the police station and then come home to an empty house because I won’t be in it any more.’

  Da reddens with rage. He hates this truth. My ma is his one true weakness in life. He loves her more than his own breath. He would die if she left him. We all love Ma and she knows it. She climbs the stairs to her bedroom in silence. As she reaches the top Da shouts up after her.

  ‘That’s the stuff, Rosemary. You take one of your wee pills and this will all go away,’ shouts Da. Ma closes the door to her room and Da shakes his head in disgust.

  ‘Are you coming, Michael?’ Granny says, handing me my coat.

  I nod and hope my ma won’t hate me for going. I want to tell her that I am only going for her and that I will ask God to forgive her, that I will ask God to forgive us all.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  EVEN THOUGH IT snows, Christmas Day is a disaster. I give out my presents and all I get are mumbles from Da, a kiss from Granny and a pat on the head from Ma. There are no hugs or excitement from anyone except me.

  I get a bike with streamers. It’s a red Chopper. I could faint like a girl. I get an Etch A Sketch, a car that moves with batteries, an itchy pair of gloves and a scarf knitted by Granny. I also get a Cadbury’s stocking stuffed with chocolate, an Action Man with a truck and a change of clothes. I am very happy with my loot, especially the chocolates in the stocking. You can never have enough chocolate on Christmas Day.

  Da got Ma a coat. She said it was lovely.

  ‘That’s lovely, Brian,’ she says. ‘Thank you very much,’ and then she folds it onto the floor.

  Da got Granny a blender, which she went mad for, and Ma got Da a shaver because Da has grown a beard and Ma hates it and so it was less of a present and more of a hint. Granny and Ma got each other the same thing because they cheated and went to Woolworths together. It was make-up and nail varnishes, even though Ma isn’t making herself up too much these days. It was like no one could be bothered buying presents for each other, only me.

  Dinner was quiet, we listened to Christmas songs on the radio and I complained about the Brussels sprouts, I always complain about the Brussels sprouts. I don’t know why anyone would grow them at all, they’re rank. Anyway I wasn’t very hungry with all the chocolate I had eaten but nobody cared too much. I still ate the pudding. I love the pudding.

  I take my bike outside, mainly to show it off to the boys. I can’t ride it on account of the thick snow but I want everyone to see it. Paul also got a bike, it’s purple and it’s a racer. I can see he’s jealous of the Chopper though but he tries not to show it. Fat Ralph’s ma and da have no money. His da is on the dole like mine, but he doesn’t have a money pot like we have from Grandpa Ja
ke and so Fat Ralph gets his ma and da’s video recorder for his bedroom, which is a bit of a shame, but it’s also good news for us because we can watch pirate tapes and maybe we can get E.T. from Knobby Doyle. He also gets a stocking of chocolates and we’re made up for him. I tell him he can have first go of my Chopper when the snow lifts. He’s pleased. We decide to have a snow fight and Dirty Alice, who got Sindy dolls and caravans and a doll’s house for Christmas, comes to join in. I don’t really want to play with her but it’s snowing and you can’t really stop people who want to throw snowballs at you. Anyway it’s a good way to thump her and not get into trouble and so Dirty Alice gets my first snowball smack in the face, but Dirty Alice is fast and throws one right back at me and before you know it someone is shouting, ‘Snowball fight!’ Everyone is at it except Marianne and Tracey, who make snowmen then roll about making snow angels.

  This is the best part of Christmas Day for me and I stay out until it is dark and with Dirty Alice of all people, but we get puffed out throwing snowballs and end up sitting in the snow together. No one goes to the Woody much these days, not since what happened to Miss Connor, and so we play on the hill instead.

  ‘How is Miss Connor?’ I ask.

  ‘She’s fine. They’re getting married the weekend before Valentine’s Day now, not the summer, did I tell you?’ says Alice as if she should have told me because we’re great big friends or something. Alice looks happy about the wedding and I feel sort of pleased for her.

  ‘Are you sad for what happened to her, Alice?’ I say.

  She doesn’t say anything for a minute. She knows what I am talking about and is wondering if she wants to discuss it with her arch-enemy.

  ‘I’m sad the man that hurt her won’t be punished, so is my da,’ says Dirty Alice.

  She lies down in the snow and looks to the sky. I think she’s going to make a snow angel but she doesn’t. Dirty Alice would never make a snow angel. She just lies there and stares at the sky.

  ‘It’s very black, isn’t it?’ she says.

  ‘What are you talking about? There’s a ton of stars up there.’ I lie down next to her, thinking maybe I’ll make a snow angel.

  She turns to face me and says, ‘I’m not dirty, Michael. I know you say that about me but it’s not true, and when you say it, it makes me hate you more than I do already, which is a big lot.’

  I am as red as can be. It’s OK to call people names behind their back, but to be caught by the person and have them say something to you about it is a very embarrassing thing and so I try to think of something nice to say without being too sorry because it’s Dirty Alice after all and I don’t like her that much.

  ‘You used to be dirty, all that tangled hair and the filthy clothes you used to wear,’ I say.

  ‘Things are different now. We have Louisa to help us with the laundry and the house. Da is a new man because of her. That’s what Luke says anyway. We love her,’ says Alice.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say but not for calling Alice Dirty Alice, but for kind Miss Connor, who saved Alice’s family and who was raped because of my family and our ugly secret.

  Alice gets comfy in the snow and looks to the stars. She’s wearing a purple jacket and a blue hat. Her mittens are red and her face is pink and I can see two little ponytails one on each side of her head. She isn’t even a little bit dirty. That’s when I feel sorry for calling Alice names but I don’t want to say sorry. I can’t. She’s still stupid, but for no reason at all I can’t stop looking at her cheeks. They’re so pink and warm and without even thinking about it I kiss her and Alice kisses me back, like a little poke on the face, and it feels strange and so we start throwing snow at each other until we are tumbling on top of one another. Alice is strong and pins me to the ground but I am stronger and roll around until she is pinned to the ground. I think she’s going to beat me for sure now but she doesn’t. She kisses me full on the mouth and not like Marianne, but in a nice way. She is gentle and I feel I could go at it for a long time. She tastes like Fizzy Lizzies. I don’t even feel Mr McFadden throwing me to the ground. It’s all a big surprise.

  ‘Da!’ screams Alice.

  Mr McFadden is tearing at my jacket. I don’t even see my da pulling him away from me and then fighting Mr McFadden. Everyone is crying around me. Miss Connor, Alice, and I think Luke. Granny is dragging me away and all because I kissed Alice McFadden, who is holding tight to Miss Connor and breaking her heart. I should never have kissed her. It was a bad idea. Alice is always getting me into trouble.

  When we get home Granny says she is disappointed in me.

  ‘You’re too young to be messing with girls at your age,’ says Granny.

  Da comes rushing in.

  ‘Are you all right, son?’ says Da while at the same time squeezing his face in rage when he sees my torn jacket. ‘I should kill the bastard for this,’ says Da and goes for his coat.

  ‘You already had a go,’ says Granny. ‘Enough is enough. What the hell do you think you were doing, Michael?’

  I am too ashamed to say ‘kissing’ and so I shrug my shoulders.

  Ma, who never went outside and just watched from the window, says, ‘You only kiss girls who want to be kissed. You’re NOT to be rolling them onto the dirt and making them.’ She bangs the table with her fists.

  ‘That’s not what happened,’ I cry. ‘Alice and me were playing a game. She wanted me to kiss her.’

  ‘For God’s sake. He’s your son, Rosemary, and he was kissing his sweetheart and you think . . . what do you think, Rosemary?’ asks Da.

  ‘Alice and me were just fooling about, Ma. There was nothing in it, really.’

  ‘Shame on you,’ says Da to Ma.

  Ma has thought something bad about me and then she thinks something bad about herself.

  ‘Oh, Brian,’ she cries.

  Da goes to Ma’s side and takes her hands. They just sit there holding hands. Ma feels sorry, I can see it in her face.

  Granny and I go to the sitting room and sit on the sofa. Granny looks tired. She has her arm around me.

  ‘I meant what I said, Michael, you’re too young to be kissing girls,’ she says. ‘But if you find you can’t stop yourself then you need to talk to your father, understand?’

  I nod, but I have no idea what she is talking about.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  PATRICK THOMPSON IS in intensive care.

  ‘They kicked the shit out of him. He’s in Inverclyde now, a broken breastplate,’ says Da.

  Ma grabs for Frankie’s lead. Frankie gets all excited, just the noise of the lead makes Frankie mental. He loves to go for walks.

  ‘Taking the dog out,’ Ma says.

  Granny and Da exchange looks. Ma clips the door behind her. I finish my toast. I think of going with her but I want to hear more about Patrick Thompson.

  ‘No one saw a thing,’ says Da to Granny.

  Granny shakes her head and crosses herself.

  It’s a terrible thing to keep crossing yourself, I think. It’s like forgiving yourself every minute of the day for things you can’t really forgive yourself for, as if you’re saying that you’re still a good person even though you know you’re telling lies and keeping secrets you shouldn’t.

  Da doesn’t cross himself; he lowers his eyes to his paper and gives it a shuffle. There is nothing we can do for Patrick Thompson but there is something we could have done and didn’t.

  Everyone knows Ma would leave us if we didn’t keep this lie for her. We have seen her packed suitcase before and it frightened the life out of us all. We couldn’t be without Ma. We would be lost without her. Da would be lost without her. We love Ma.

  I think of Alice all the time and the kiss in the snow, and then I think of her da tearing at my jacket, but he’s very sorry about that and Mr McFadden comes to the door with a leather football for me. He is actually weeping. Granny has to give him a cup of tea. Ma hides upstairs. She can’t face Mr McFadden or Louisa Connor or anything to do with their family. Mr McFadden
tells Da and Granny the last few months have been hard on the family and when he saw me with Alice something inside him snapped.

  ‘They’re too young to be kissing,’ says Mr McFadden.

  ‘It’s a scandal is what it is,’ says Granny. ‘Too much TV.’

  Da doesn’t say anything, he just bites his lip, because when he first kissed Ma she was only twelve and he was fourteen. They have loved each other that long.

  Every day I feel like a big horrible liar and it’s been like that for a long time now. Whenever I see Miss Connor waving through her window or Luke or Alice I feel sick in my stomach. My hands go sweaty and I feel like I might have a heart attack or something. I don’t even care about my keepy-uppies any more, although it was nice of Mr McFadden to get me the cool new ball. It is so hard to concentrate on anything these days and I dread the talent show. Marianne announces it will be on New Year’s Eve and everyone thinks this is a brilliant idea except me because I know I will be rubbish and it will be freezing outside.

  Ma says it will be fun to go to the talent show and seeing Ma cheered about it makes me think there might be something wrong with her. I don’t think she understands she will have to talk to Miss Connor at the concert and say Happy New Year to her and do the same to Mr McFadden, who might kiss her on the cheek. She might also have to clap for Alice when she sings her songs and have to be shocked and surprised when Luke the Magician does his amazing trickery. At the moment she hides from them all, but she can’t hide at the talent show. She will have eyes to look through and words to find. Right now she has none and so I dread the talent show and I wonder if my ma’s mind will get sick again. I hope Da never leaves her side.

  With all the sadness that’s been on the scheme Skinny Rab decides we will also have fireworks and sausages in buttery rolls. It is a great excitement and Marianne can hardly breathe for the joy of it. Her da is her da again. On New Year’s Eve her ma makes sausages and passes them around and everyone eats them and laughs and acts like Tricia Law never existed at all.