Closed Doors

by Lisa O'Donnell

  ‘Michael, what are you doing?’ screams Tricia.

  ‘I want to see Ma’s monster. I’ve been living with him for over a year now. He’s been all over my life. He’s the reason for everything. I want to look in his eye. Maybe I won’t kick him in the nuts but I want to see him.’

  ‘Coming or going?’ says the taxi driver and he’s grumpy.

  Tricia sighs and gives the taxi driver some money.

  ‘There’s a cafe inside, we’ll go for a cup of tea,’ says Tricia. ‘Your parents will kill me,’ she says, but we don’t get too far because Da appears with Ma. They don’t see me at first, but then they do and it’s too late.

  ‘Michael!’ shouts Ma.

  I am caught.

  Da looks mad as a dog.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ yells Da.

  Alice’s ma and da appear too, but they hug her instead. I am annoyed about that. Suddenly they’re all crying and Alice is holding tight to her ma.

  ‘Let’s go,’ says Mrs McFadden.

  Suzanne Miller and her parents swoop past us. They don’t care to stop. They give Ma dirty looks and stride towards all the taxis waiting in line for all the victims and criminals to go home and have their teas.

  ‘Good luck to you, Morag,’ says Da to a girl I have never seen before. Ma gives her a little hug and Da shakes her hand.

  ‘Same to you all,’ she says.

  I watch this girl Morag walk away. She climbs into a waiting taxi and disappears inside behind the black door.

  ‘Was that the prostitute?’ I ask.

  ‘Her name is Morag,’ says Ma, annoyed.

  ‘You should be at school, you little bugger,’ says Da. ‘How did you get here anyway?’

  ‘I wanted to see him,’ I say.

  Ma goes red.

  ‘We’re going, Rosemary,’ says Mrs McFadden and I think maybe they will hug too, but they don’t. The strangeness between them remains the same.

  ‘Be seeing you, Brian,’ says Mr McFadden. The men are more friendly.

  ‘Bye, Michael,’ says Alice, all smiles and joy. She takes her da’s hand. She didn’t get into trouble or anything and doesn’t care about kicking the rapist’s nuts any more. Stupid Dirty Alice. It was her idea to come here in the first place.

  ‘Is he going to jail, Ma?’ I ask.

  ‘I hope so, Michael.’ I grab for her legs. Da smiles, but Ma doesn’t.

  ‘Can I go round the back, Da? I want to see him,’ I say.

  ‘No,’ says Da.

  ‘Please,’ I beg.

  ‘I think I want to see him too,’ says Ma to Da and suddenly she is holding me by the hand and taking me to see her monster. Da grabs at her.

  ‘Rosemary, no,’ says Da.

  ‘I want to, Da,’ I say.

  Da lets Ma go and we go round the back with Tricia Law.

  We wait a long time and there is a lot of cigarette smoking. Tricia thinks it’s a bad idea and so does Da. Eventually the door opens and the monster is brought outside with two policemen who seem very small next to this man. I feel bad for my ma. She could never have escaped him. His hands are like giant knots and his body as strong as a bull.

  ‘Fucker!’ yells Tricia.

  Da says nothing. He moves closer to Ma, who hides under his arm. I grab at the fence that divides me from the man who raped my ma. I want him to look up and I want him to see me. I want to see his eyes, but he won’t look at anyone. He is a coward and cowards can’t look anyone in the eye.

  ‘Hey, you,’ I shout but he still won’t look at me.

  A policeman pushes him into the back of the car and I know then his eyes are not mine to see. They belong to my ma, to Mrs McFadden and to a girl called Morag.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  THE FLASHER DOES not get sentenced to death and his head stays on his shoulders.

  ‘More’s the pity,’ says Granny.

  Ma shakes her head. ‘Three years,’ she says and holds tight to Da’s arm.

  ‘It’ll be a long three years. Think on that,’ says Da, patting Ma’s hand.

  ‘He should have got a hundred, Ma,’ I say.

  ‘Still not long enough for me,’ says Ma.

  News of the rapist going to jail sweeps across town and Ma and Mrs McFadden are heroes for putting him away. It is in the local newspaper and in the Daily Record and so everyone in the whole wide world knows. My ma says to a journalist, ‘It is good the demon is behind bars,’ and Mrs McFadden says, ‘I just want to get on with my life.’ The girl called Morag isn’t asked anything at all. She is the invisible woman. There is even a sketched picture of the rapist in the paper but his head is low and it is hard to see his face. I think the worst picture drawer in the world must have drawn him.

  Professor Friendly sends Ma flowers but Da doesn’t like them because he didn’t think to buy them himself. Ma goes back to work and her studies again. She is still a little sad because of what has happened to her but Granny says it will pass and for real this time.

  ‘It’s over now,’ says Granny. ‘For all of us.’

  I wonder if Granny is right, if it really is over this time.

  ‘But Ma was mad when he went to prison, Granny. She says he won’t be in jail long enough,’ I say.

  ‘Your ma will have to lump it,’ says Granny. ‘We all have to try and forget this bad thing that has happened; especially your ma.’

  Ma comes in and I ask her if she’ll be able to forget.

  ‘I’ll try, Michael,’ she says.

  ‘I’m off to play keepy-uppies,’ I say.

  ‘You must be able to do a million of them by now,’ says Ma.

  ‘Almost fifty,’ I tell her.

  ‘Must hurt your little legs,’ she says.

  ‘He’s young,’ says Granny.

  ‘Not as young as I would like,’ says Ma and starts to help Granny fold the clothes.

  The doorbell rings.

  ‘Go see who it is, Michael,’ says Granny.

  It’s Skinny Rab and he’s standing in front of a lot of our neighbours.

  ‘Go get your ma, Michael,’ says Skinny Rab.

  ‘Ma!’ I yell and when she comes to the door she sees what I see, a swarm of people smiling and chattering outside our door. I wonder what they want and when I look up Mrs McFadden is standing on our doorstep with Mr McFadden, Luke and Alice wondering the same and as surprised as we are.

  ‘Well done, girls,’ someone shouts.

  People clap. ‘Nice one, ladies,’ someone else says.

  Then someone whistles and there is more clapping. It’s like we are on a stage and Ma and Mrs McFadden have sung a great song together. Ma goes red. Then Da appears and he is all smiles. He puts his arms around Ma and she is so embarrassed I think she might disappear under Da’s armpit. It’s like everyone around me is suddenly happy and I am the best boy in the world for having a brave ma who beat her monster and had him sent to jail. Ma and Mrs McFadden look at one another and a little wave flutters between them and I see the ice thawing.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  SIX MONTHS AFTER the trial there is good news for Ma and Mrs McFadden. It turns out there were three other women afraid to tell about the monster that hurt them. Ma’s monster. I read in the paper that his name is Frank O’Sullivan. It is strange to read his name. No one says it out loud in our house. We call him other things but never by his real name. He gets seven years in prison and this makes Da buy champagne. He invites the McFaddens but only Mr McFadden comes. Mrs McFadden has to stay with baby Amanda, but she sends her best wishes and a box of shortbread for the celebration. Then Alice shows up and I have to share the shortbread with her, which I am not at all happy about, not one little bit. She says thank you like a hundred times like I have given her the Crown jewels or something.

  When all the adults have finished the champagne Da pours some drinks from under the cupboard next to the flour and Mr McFadden is well pleased. Even Ma has a drop. When Tricia Law appears with her own champagne, I know there will be a big night
in the Murray household. Alice and I go up to my room because we are sent there and because it is very boring being with grown-ups who are drinking and talking about Margaret Thatcher and the IRA and all the other terrible things happening in the world, especially unemployment.

  Da is very lucky to have a job at all, says Mr McFadden, who has been unemployed since his first wife died, but he doesn’t seem to mind and neither does Mrs McFadden. I wonder if Mr McFadden is rich and when I ask Alice she says he is because he gets a dole cheque almost twice a month.

  ‘Let’s go down to the Woody,’ says Alice.

  ‘It’s dark,’ I say.

  ‘Don’t be a baby,’ she says. ‘They won’t even notice we’re gone. It will be a laugh. Bring your soldiers and we can pretend we are at war,’ says Alice, going downstairs. I smell the fag smoke from the kitchen and decide Alice is right. It would be fun at the Woody. I grab a bunch of soldiers and give some to Alice and we sneak out the front door. Alice sneaks into her da’s shed and gets a torch. When we get there it’s like a grassy graveyard and it makes me scared. I worry about animals like snakes and rats coming out of the grass. They don’t care at night and would bite your arse in a minute, but it is obvious Alice couldn’t care less and so I don’t say anything. We find a wee spot and have a good old game of soldiers. I win, but Alice doesn’t mind. I kill all her soldiers and it’s easy as pie but then it gets cold and there is nothing to do any more. We can see the lights in my kitchen are still on and the party is in full swing. There is even music playing and I bet a million pounds my da is singing stupid songs about Scotland. Alice moves closer to me and it makes me move along a bit. I got a hiding last time Alice was close to me.

  ‘I’m not going with the Greek lad any more,’ says Alice.

  ‘I don’t care,’ I say and I don’t.

  ‘Yes you do,’ she says and kisses me smack on the cheek. I want to wipe it clean but I don’t. I kiss her back. I kiss her like I have seen in the movies and I tumble on top of her like a madman. It doesn’t feel wrong, maybe because we have done it before, maybe because Alice and me know what we are doing, being so mature now.

  Eventually we stop kissing and Alice wiggles from underneath me.

  ‘You’re a good kisser, Michael Murray,’ says Alice out of breath.

  ‘You’re good too,’ I say.

  ‘I have to go home now,’ says Alice. She dusts herself down from the grassy Woody, which is all over us from the rolling in the grass we’ve been doing.

  ‘Don’t tell anyone about this,’ she says.

  ‘I won’t,’ I promise.

  She smiles and skips back to her house, leaving me with all the soldiers to carry back on my own.

  I go home to my house and I am very pleased with myself. Everyone is downstairs and so I take out a nudey magazine and let my willy go mad. I know it is wrong, I know my ma wouldn’t like it, I know Alice’s da wouldn’t like it, his head would burst open, but it is what boys do when they are excited by girls and I am very excited about the beautiful Alice. Anyway it’s OK if you’re on your own, Paul says it is normal and so does Fat Ralph. It’s only wrong if you do it in front of girls and they can see you. You can only ever do it to yourself and for the rest of your life.

  FORTY-NINE

  DA IS VERY excited. Ma has gone to work with Tricia Law and he has something planned. Ma has had a good week and passed all her exams. She will become a teacher now after she does some more studying and Da is very proud of her, but he is also afraid.

  ‘She’s moving on, Ma,’ he whispers to Granny.

  ‘She’s bettering herself,’ says Granny.

  ‘What if she betters herself so much a builder will not be good enough for her? She’s always been the smart one,’ says Da.

  ‘After what you two have been through wild horses couldn’t separate you and anyone can see it. You’re a strong man, Brian Murray, and I couldn’t be prouder of you.’

  There is a little silence between them and I wonder if they are hugging. I am dying to look but I am hiding behind the door and not supposed to be listening or anything at all.

  ‘Today of all days,’ he says to Granny.

  Da is upset by the rain. I don’t know why. I love the rain. It cleans the entire world and makes everything fresh again.

  ‘It won’t matter to Rosemary, son. She’s going to go mad with joy. Where’s Michael?’ says Granny.

  ‘I’m here,’ I say, forgetting I am not supposed to be so close to the kitchen door, but Granny hardly notices, though she scowls a little like she does know but has no time for upsets today. I wonder what is going on.

  ‘Away upstairs and put your good clothes on,’ she says.

  The only good clothes I have are the ones from Christmas and they include Granny’s jersey, which is already too small for me. I will look stupid, I think.

  When I am dressed I am called downstairs and there is more champagne sitting next to more flowers and I wonder if the monster is dead, this would be the cause for a great party and all kinds of joy and happiness.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I ask.

  ‘Something very special indeed,’ beams Granny.

  Da enters the room with a giant box and places it on the table. He looks at his watch.

  ‘Is it Ma’s birthday?’ I ask, worried I have forgotten.

  ‘No,’ says Granny. ‘It’s better than that. Much better.’

  ‘She should be here any minute now,’ says Da, but Ma is not any minute and eventually Da has to take a seat and grab for his paper. He rustles it about and gets irritated by everything he reads. He is totally impatient and clock-watches for ages. He is driving me mad, but so is Ma and I wish she would hurry up. The jersey I am wearing is tight and I am desperate to take it off.

  ‘That Tricia is keeping her gabbing no doubt,’ says Granny all annoyed.

  Eventually the door rattles and Ma enters the kitchen all wet with Tricia Law. She sees everyone dressed to the nines, the champagne, the flowers and the big present.

  ‘What’s the occasion?’ she says.

  ‘Open your gift,’ says Tricia, lighting a fag. She is soaked through and so is Ma.

  ‘Let me take my coat off,’ says Ma.

  ‘Leave it on,’ says Da.

  ‘What for?’ says Ma.

  ‘Open the present and you’ll see,’ says Da all excited.

  ‘Well, I hope it’s a brolly, I’m soaked through,’ says Ma.

  ‘Open your gift, Rosemary,’ says Granny impatiently.

  Ma starts to peel the wrapping off her present. About time, I think.

  I am annoyed because I know it’s not a brolly, it is something everyone knows about except me. This is a door I was not standing behind when they were making this secret, I think.

  Anyway she unwraps the papers and finds it’s a box with more paper on it. It’s one of those big presents you have to unwrap and unwrap until you get to a tiny box where the treasure lies. Ma takes ages and there is paper all over the floor and every time she is confronted by another box she screams and laughs. Eventually she reaches the treasure and it is a small velvet box. A ring, I think. A big diamond ring. How boring, is my next thought, but then Ma opens the box and it is not a ring, it is a key.

  ‘What’s this?’ she smiles. Da hands her an envelope with papers in it.

  ‘It’s what you always wanted, a home of your own,’ says Da. ‘A view. This house to share with your family and for always.’ Da turns red at this. ‘Is that what you want, Rosemary?’ He worries she will say no. Things are very different now.

  Ma looks into Da’s face all pink and eager for an answer and nods. She grabs for him and kisses him like I kissed Alice. I am mortified to see them like this. I look to the ground while Tricia playfully rubs at my hair.

  ‘Juicy Fruit?’ she says. I nod.

  ‘Shall we open the door?’ says Granny, even though Ma has already opened the door today and with the same key she has in her purse, but somehow this key is different. With our rain
coats on and the smell of the sea drifting from the harbour we stand on our doorstep while Ma turns the lock and opens our front door. Ma steps inside her home and onto the landing. We are right behind her. We would follow Ma anywhere. Once inside Ma closes the door shut and everything feels warm; we were freezing on that step but happy to be there for Ma’s sake. She is bright and cheered. She has a view bought from the government and the last thing Da wanted, but he wants Ma more. When she grabs for me I am glad. I am gladder than any boy can be. My ma loves me and with the door closed behind us we can have our party now.

  Drinking champagne and having a good old time Ma finds my eyes watching her across the room. She makes a kissing motion and sends it to me in the air. I am supposed to catch it like a baby and today I think I will. It might have made me cry if I was a baby, but I am not a baby. I am the toughest lad in the scheme and the toughest lad in the scheme doesn’t cry about anything in the whole wide world. Not one thing and not today.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  When you’re writing your acknowledgements it’s hard to know where to start, so many people have supported and encouraged me on this very privileged road and I could hug them all. I want to make mention of the women in my family who taught me to listen and to laugh, my Granny Hunt, my Great-auntie Jean, my Great-auntie Betty, my Auntie Ginny, my Auntie Betty and my mother; strong, able and hilarious. No one can imagine the laughs in a room full of MacDonald women, but I was assured by them all (and generally amidst a cloud of smoke) if I learned to laugh young then life would go easy on me. They were so right.

  I want to thank my hometown in Rothesay. When I left home I was told by a much older generation ‘You can go, but you’ll come back. Everyone does one way or another.’ Wise words. My pen is a pepper shaker and always spills the influence of where I come from. I am very grateful. I also want to thank Susanna Maggioni for the use of her little cottage by the river in Treviso, a writer’s heaven.

  To my editor, the insightful Laurie Ip Fung Chun at Windmill Books, who I have had the privilege of working with for over two years now. We’re always on the same page and the talent you lend me is received with much gratitude. I thank my agent Alex Christofi in the same vein.