by Ross Sayers
Ah can stand fae ma seat noo but no fur long. We’re goin too quick and ah fall back doon. Ah begin tae get dizzy. The darkness oot the windaes gets so black it turns tae streaks ae colour. Green and red fizz by on the other side ae the glass.
Then the colours swirl and jump and blend intae pictures, comin tae life on the tunnel walls ootside.
A young lassie diggin through her parent’s bedroom drawers. Her mum discovers her, shouts at her fur snoopin and sends her tae her room. She’s a nosey nelly. The gurl greets thick tears but disnae spill the real reason she wis in there. She wants tae find oot if her da’s bought her mum the Christmas present she knows her mum really wants: a tiny clay hoose, painted in pink and sold in the fancy shop in toon. It wid match the paintin in the livin room perfectly. The gurl’s been savin up her pocket money. The hoose wis naewhaur tae be found in the drawers, jist socks and boxers and little square sweetie wrappers. The year afore, her da got her mum a horrible necklace fur Christmas. The gurl knows her mum better than her da does. She deserves a thoughtful present.
The streaks move and change and light up a different scene.
The same lassie, slightly aulder, in the dark blue jumper ae her high school. She walks between classes, turns her heid and sees commotion at the end ae the corridor. Teresa Flanagan, fae S3, pushin a young laddie up against the lockers. She disnae want anyhin fae him, nae money or food, she’s jist a bully. Oor lassie considers walkin on, pretendin she husnae seen, jist fur a second, then runs towards Teresa. The bully turns and the lassie lands her a swift whack, droppin her tae the flair. Mrs Gregory appears and the gurl is suspended fur a week. Later that night, when her da is screamin at her and tellin her she’s embarrassed him, she disnae regret it.
The scene disappears, lit a shaken Etch-A-Sketch, and reassembles, the colours darker this time.
Oor gurl, aulder again, nearly a woman, comes hame and dumps her schoolbag at the front door whaur she knows her mum will get annoyed at her fur leavin it. Inside the livin room, her mum sits on the couch and tries tae hide her tears. The gurl’s da, the mum’s husband, the man ae the hoose, hus left them, away tae start a new family in Inverness. The lassie pits her arm aroond her mum, too shocked tae cry or throw suhin expensive at the wall. On the table, the animated Christmas ornament they picked up the week afore plays a tinny, cheery tune. A snowy scene wi a train daein laps. It’ll jist be the two ae them this Christmas.
Thur faces blur and become jist colours again.
Ah try tae stand again, tae get closer and bring the pictures back, but the speed ae the subway increases. Ah fall backwards intae the seat and close ma eyes.
53
This time ah wake up aw by masel, nae rough hawns shakin me intae action. The carriage is hauf full. As soon as ah look at the people, they turn their heids and pretend they wurnae starin.
Ah raise masel tae a sittin position and look at the wife across fae me.
‘Whit date is it?’
‘Friday,’ she replies, clutchin her bag a little closer tae her.
‘The?’
‘15th.’
‘Ae December?’
‘Aye. How long huv ye been asleep?’
‘Too long,’ ah say, standin up. ‘Cheers.’
Ah get aff and see we’re at Hillhead station. Ah run up the stairs and find somebdy tae cuddyback through the barrier.
Byres Road is cauld and hoachin. Ah look in the windae ae Starbucks. Ma third face ae the week. Green eyes. Hair longer than Daisy and Rose. Eyebrows in need ae a serious thread but ah can live wi that. Ma reflection’s gettin further and further fae suhin ah recognise, each new face a little less lit me.
‘Lily,’ ah say tae masel. ‘You can be Lily. Let’s hope you’ve got better luck than Rose.’
Ah snap oot ae ma trance as an ambulance charges its way doon the road, cars comin tae abrupt stops at odd angles. The sirens scream inside ma heid and ah cover ma ears tae try and block them oot. In a second, thur gone. The ambulance is oot ae sight, the sirens still echoin aff the buildins in its trail.
Ah start runnin. As fast as Lily’s legs’ll take me. Ma feet slip and skite on patches ae ice. Folk shirk oot ma way wi thur shoppin bags full ae Christmas presents. Up aheid, ah see the ambulance race through a red light at the four-way junction and park up ootside the Botanic Gardens.
The sound ae ma feet on the cracked pavement replaces the sirens. Ma heid feels cloudy wi a time travellin hangover but ah power through. Ah pass by Fopp, the fancy doughnut shop, Oran Mor. The green man is there tae meet me at the junction luckily and ah rush towards the gates.
Turnin the corner, ah view the scene again, this time fae a different angle. The paramedics spread the crowd oot and kneel doon by Steven. Ah walk towards them while Rose turns and bolts up the hill.
Ah dae ma best tae get close but the paramedics keep everyone back. Steven gets pit on a stretcher and wheeled doon towards the gates. His eyes urr closed noo. His arms lie at his sides, shooglin wi every bump in the path. Ah walk close behind.
‘He’s got a… partner,’ ah say tae the paramedics. ‘She’s called Annie. Yeese shid phone her.’
‘Thanks for that, miss,’ says the aulder gent.
‘What about that lassie that ran away then?’ the other wife says. ‘Must have been his bit on the side.’
‘This Annie won’t be happy when she finds out.’
They baith laugh. Afore ah can tell them how wrong they urr, they’re pittin Steven in the back ae the ambulance and tellin me tae stand back. Ah try tae get in.
‘Family only,’ the guy says. ‘I’m sure someone’ll get in touch with you.’
‘Please,’ ah say. ‘Please help him.’
They slam the doors shut and drive away. The sirens go on again and ah clench ma eyes and ears lit that’s gonnae dae anyhin tae stop the pain.
As the ambulance turns the corner, ah decide whit ah need tae dae next. Ah dunno if it’s whit Yotta hud in mind but it’ll make me feel a lot better.
54
‘Ye on late the night?’
Ah sit in the back ae the taxi, askin the driver questions tae pass the time. The driver continues readin his paper. The radio plays some guys talkin aboot Scottish fitbaw. Celtic, unbeaten in 69 games, travel to Tyncastle on Sunday looking to make it 70.
‘Depends,’ the driver says. ‘Usually aboot three, mibbe later wi aw the Christmas nights oot. Or however long ye keep me sittin here. Ye ken the meter’s runnin, hen?’
The meter ticks up again tae eleven quid.
‘Aye, ah know,’ ah say. ‘It willnae be long. Any minute noo.’
We go back tae silence. The rustle ae his paper as he turns the page reaches ma ears while ma eyes try tae shut fur a bit ae peace. Across fae whaur we’re parked, folk awready drunk on six percent beers stumble intae the Philadelphia chippy and order the greasiest fritters this side ae the Kelvin.
‘So is this some kind ae drama?’ the driver says. ‘Some boyfriend drama?’
‘How’d ye mean?’
‘Well, this car that ye’ve telt me ah need tae follow, is it yer man? Urr we goin tae his bit on the side’s place? Cause that can turn nasty and ah’m no wantin any fightin near ma motor.’
‘Ye can rest assured, nae boy trouble the night. It’s a pair ae lassies actually.’
He eyes me up in the rear-view mirror, afore movin his attention back tae his paper.
‘Oh right. Tell ye the truth, that disnae make me feel much better. Ah’m expectin a hefty tip fur ma discretion, ah hope ye’re keepin that in mind.’
‘Ah can barely hink ae anyhin else.’
Finally, ah see Jill and Rose appear at the end ae the street. They pass by the taxi and get intae Jill’s car behind us. Thur engine starts up.
‘That’s them,’ ah say tae the driver. ‘Follow that car, please.’
‘Whitever y
ou say, Lily.’
He waits til thur at the junction and pulls oot intae the road. It wis easy tellin him ma name wis Lily. If ah’d telt him ma name is Daisy, he, lit every other taxi driver ah’ve ever hud, wid make a Driving Miss Daisy joke and ah’m really no in the mood at the minute.
The route is mair familiar the second time roond, but ah still couldnae huv guided us here on ma ain. As Jill’s car disappears intae the trees, ah tell the driver tae stop and pass a fifty note through the hole in his protective screen. Yotta wis kind enough tae transfer ma money fae one body tae another, and she’s let me keep ma phone as well.
‘Sure ye don’t want me tae hing aboot?’ the driver says. ‘Urr ye goin intae they wids on yer ain? Ye niver know whit beasties and that urr kickin aboot in the dark.’
‘Naw, ye’re grand,’ ah tell him. ‘It’s a… surprise party in there.’
‘Oh aye?’
‘Aye, wi fireworks and that. If ye hear a bang, that’s whit it is.’
‘If ye say so. Bit wet fur that, naw?’
Ah get oot and start walkin intae the wids as he drives aff. The red ae the brake lights ae Jill’s car urr jist aboot in sight, deep intae the trees. The boots Yotta’s pit me in urr sturdier fur this terrain and ah make gid progress.
As ah get close, ah veer aff the track and intae the long grass. Ah go roond the ootside, tryin tae keep as quiet as ah can. Jill and Rose huv begun thur standoff. The rain rattles against the car, drownin oot the sound ae the swish and crunch ae the grass under ma feet.
Ah reach intae ma pocket and take oot ma phone. Ah point it towards Jill and Rose and start recordin. They talk and talk fur whit seems lit furever. Ah can barely make them oot on the screen, so ah turn the flash on. Ah worry thur gonnae see, and Rose seems tae catch sight ae the light fur a second or two, but she turns back tae Jill.
It’s hard tae make oot whit part ae the conversation thur at. Then ah hear:
‘Yotta! Help! Now! Please!’
A few seconds pass and Rose runs right towards Jill. Fur the briefest ae seconds, ah’m sure ah see light flash in a pair ae eyes in the trees on the opposite side ae the car. Jill pulls the trigger.
BANG
And Rose disappears. Jill’s blown back by the force ae the shot and lands on the car bonnet. The rain lashes aroond her as she searches the ground in front fur Rose’s body. Ah turn aff the camera as she keeps searchin. She crouches doon and waves her hawns aboot, hopin tae catch some invisible limb. A scream comes fae her mooth, but it’s impossible tae tell if it’s tears or rain on her face.
Thur’s a tiny part ae me that feels sorry fur her. She hud her hale life taken away and hud tae make a new yin. But if whit Yotta says is true, that’s whit she wanted. She let her life go, and she let her pal Freddie’s life go as well.
The panic sets in fur Jill and she runs back tae the car. She closes ower the passenger door first, then gets in the driver’s side. Thur’s a slippery sound ae mud churnin as she reverses in a wobbly backwards line oot ae the trees. Soon, she’s gone, and aw that’s left is the rain.
55
Ah walk fur whit feels lit an oor, drenched and wi mud up tae ma knees, afore ah find a taxi that’ll stop fur me. The driver tries some small talk but ah ignore him.
Ah create a throwaway account on Youtube, and Twitter, and Facebook, and Instagram. Ah upload the video ae Jill shootin Rose tae every site and tag Police Scotland under each yin. When it’s done, ah pit the windae doon and chuck the phone oot intae the night.
‘Whit wis that?’ the driver says.
‘Nuhin important.’
‘Looked lit a phone.’
‘It wis.’
‘Right. That wis quite dramatic ae ye, wis it no?
‘Fair point.’
‘Bad breakup?’
‘Suhin lit that.’
The taxi drops me aff at Partick station. The street is slick, shinin wi streaky white light. Ah’m nearly in the station when a smoker ootside reaches a hawn oot towards me, blockin ma path.
‘Ah widnae go in there if ah wur you. Aw kinds ae hings happen tae folk that get on the subway late at night.’
Yotta smiles. Ah go and stand next tae her, leanin on the wet station wall. She hawns me a fag and ah let her light it fur me. Ah’ve really went ower ma allotted yearly limit fur smokin durin this hale debacle.
‘The polis huv awready circulated the video,’ Yotta says. ‘Lookin fur mair information aboot a supposed shootin in some wids on the ootskirts ae Glasgow. Lucky somebdy wis there wi a camera tae document the hale hing, eh?’
‘Aye, whit urr the chances ae that,’ ah say.
Folk leave the subway and stick thur hawns oot first tae check fur rain. When they see it’s dry, they scurry oot wi their brollies still closed.
‘When can ah go back?’ ah ask.
‘Jist say the word.’
‘Ah want tae go back.’
‘Right, ah wis lyin. Bluff called.’
Ah sink further doon on the wall, ma puffy jaiket slidin silently against the tiles.
‘Why urr ye daein this tae me?’ ah ask. ‘Whit wis the point in aw this? Ah’ve seen Steven die, well done, ah’m sure ah really deserved that.’
A car pulls up beside us and ah see ma reflection again. Lily’s reflection. Ah raise ma eyebrows and she raises hers. Ma tongue pours oot ma mooth and so does hers. The driver ae the car gies me a funny look and ah suck ma tongue back in.
‘These faces ye gie me,’ ah say, ‘whaur dae ye get them fae?’
‘That’s above ma paygrade.’
‘And whit happens tae them efter? Whit happens tae Rose’s face noo that it’s used up? Whit’s gonnae happen tae this yin?’
‘Also above ma paygrade.’
‘Jist ma luck. Thur’s a secret time travel society and ah get assigned the new start. Is thur anyhin ye dae know?’
‘Ah know whit the elves at Santa’s workshop listen tae while they work. Wrap music.’
Despite it aw, ah laugh. If ah didnae, ah’d strangle her.
‘Ah also know,’ she continues, ‘that this job is harder than ah thought it wis gonnae be. Ah thought ah knew whit ah wis gettin masel intae. Comin tae folk in thur time ae need. Stoppin folk fae makin a really stupit decision.’
Yotta locks eyes wi me. It’s as if she knows. But she couldnae know. Ah niver telt anybody. Ah hud barely even decided masel. She couldnae know, could she? Whit ah stumbled doon tae the subway that night fur?
‘But ye’ve been daein well, Daisy,’ she goes on. ‘The higher ups huv noticed.’
Ah look tae the sky. It’s a calm, peaceful sight noo that the storm’s passed. Ah dunno whit ah expect tae see up there. These higher ups smilin doon at me. Well done, Daisy, Rose and Lily.
For what? You didn’t save him.
‘Whit else dae ah need tae dae,’ ah say. ‘Tae get back?’
‘Daisy, huv ye considered whit ah telt ye afore? That ye’ve been given a gift? Ye’re in such a rush aw the time.’
‘A gift? Oh aye, this hus been Christmas come early fur me.’
‘Ye wur given the chance tae dae suhin important. No everybody gets that kind ae opportunity in this life.’
Ah let oot another laugh. Yotta’s jist a bundle ae laughs.
‘Yotta, in case ye’ve no noticed, ah’ve no changed anyhin. Literally everyhin ah dae, nuhin changes. Ah cannae change a hing. Everyhin’s awready happened.’
‘It’s almost like thur’s order tae the universe.’
Two men walk by us, baith clearly steamin, and discuss who’s gonnae talk tae the bouncers at the next pub they try and get intae.
‘Ah couldnae change anyhin, except fur Steven, who ah somehow managed tae kill a day earlier.’
‘Ye didnae.’
‘Whit?’
‘Ye didnae kill him a day earlier,
Daisy. He iways died today.’
Ah look up at her fae ma perched position close tae the pavement. Ma thighs and calves urr startin tae ache.
‘But… he died the morra night. Ma mum telt me he died the morra night.’
‘And why d’ye hink yer mum wid tell folk that? Whit reason did she huv tae keep his death quiet fur twenty-four oors?’
Ah turn it ower in ma heid. Whit wid make ma mum lie aboot Steven’s death? Wis she jist tryin tae stop me fae appearin at the hospital? Wid ah even huv turnt up if she’d huv let me know he wis at death’s door? It disnae sound lit me.
‘Whitever her reasons, it disnae matter,’ ah say. ‘Ye sent me back tae save Steven. Ah couldnae dae it. Ah failed. Then ye sent me back again, and ah’ve mibbe managed tae get Jill her comeuppance, but again, Steven’s still deid. And yet these higher ups hink ah did well? So is that it? The hale hing wis aboot Jill? Tae get back at her fur youse fuckin up and leavin her in the wrong body? Cause that feels lit the kinda hing youse shid’ve sorted oot yersels. D’ye hear me?’
Ah shout it loud and tae the sky. Ah know ah shid watch ma mooth but ah cannae help masel. Yotta’s ma only hope if ah want tae get hame. She could leave me here as Lily if she fancies.
‘Huv ye no taken anyhin fae this experience?’ Yotta asks me.
‘Lit whit?’
‘Lit… a new appreciation fur life?’
‘No particularly, naw. In fact, hings urr even worse than afore. Ah’ve found oot ma stepda wis actually a gid guy and ah shid’ve given him a chance. Which, noo, ah’ll no be able tae dae. Ah feel ten times worse than ah did afore ye sent me back.’
Yotta smiles. In a sort ae ah know suhin you don’t kind ae way.
‘Ye need tae go easier on folk,’ she says. ‘And that starts wi yersel, Daisy. That wee voice in yer heid that’s iways tellin ye how awful ye urr and how ye’re no gid enough? Ye need tae learn no tae trust it. Ye also need tae realise that everybody hus wan ae they voices. Some folk’s urr jist a bit louder than others. Everybody’s daein thur best.’
