by James Kelman
He had been a good brother to Helen and he would love Sophie. He would. It wasnt too much to say. This is the way brothers and sisters are. If ever they hate each other they love each other, they really do. Brian was quiet and went his own way but he would be tender. He had been. That was what Dad didnt understand. Dad was not tender, you wouldnt say it about him but you would about Brian.
Of course Helen would help him. Of course she would. Whatever his troubles were my God he was her brother, if times were hard for him; they knew about hard times, her and Mo. Perhaps Brian couldnt stay with them but they could help in other ways and they would, Helen would make sure of that.
Mo and Brian would get on well together. Mo was easy-going. Brian would like him and be so comfortable with him. Mo knew London like the back of his hand and would take him places.
If they had had more space; life would have been easier if they had – unless he slept on the kitchen floor. Because where else? Then Helen coming home in early morning and not able to sit, not able to have a cup of tea, and wee Sophie coming in in her underclothes. That would have been so awkward. Really, it would have been.
The flat was too small. That was the truth. Too easy to clutter, never mind Mo and the junk he brought home.
Although if it had been his family my God even a distant relative, a tenth cousin! There would be no question. People just appeared. That was Mo’s childhood. You woke up in the morning and two uncles were in sleeping bags on the carpet. All for one one for all. It was a worthwhile attitude. Even if it wasnt family it was friends, arriving unannounced, no money and no place to go. It wouldnt have been one night for them. It would be for as long as it took. Of course it would. And if the person was in need, in genuine need, if he needed looking after, or just care, and attention.
Oh God.
Mum’s flat in Glasgow would have been ideal. She had a spare room. It was a bedroom in the past but was now a workroom. She could move out the table and sewing machine. She used to have a folding bed sort of thing, a z-bed. Perhaps she still had it. Except Mum wasnt a hoarder; if things had no function she dumped them.
Mum would have changed the house for Brian. She would want to. She would be so glad to see him.
Although Helen could get a folding bed. She could. Mo would enjoy the hunt. Car-boot sales and secondhand shops, the old market they went to. Brian wouldnt have any money, not if he was living rough. An actual mattress was all they needed, and a sleeping bag or a duvet.
Oh God, why was he living rough! Unless he was ill and unable to fend for himself: people got trapped in vicious circles with government agencies, if you have no address they wont give you money, but you cant get an address until they give you money. It was appalling and obvious. Why did they not work it out? Surely they could work it out! People wandered around, ill, in need of care and attention and the government just oh my God why didnt people do something about it? if things were obvious, it was always obvious things, and everybody knew them, everybody, everybody knew yet nothing was done, it was horrible. Poor Brian.
Mo’s family was straightforward, they seemed so. But only what she knew and what did she know? nothing. Did he tell her everything? Of course not. He didnt know himself. Nobody did. Nobody could. Because people didnt know everything. There were matters and events his parents and uncles and aunts wouldnt speak about, especially if the memories were bad. If you went back two generations it became more complicated. It was the same with all families, unless you were rich, there were things you didnt want to know and not if it was Pakistan and India and these places where it was killings and all that, people starving to death. Mo was going to go. His parents hadnt been back for years but were saving to go again – one last time, and Mo was going with them.
Helen wasnt. It was assumed she wasnt. She might have liked to go, if it was only her, although not with Sophie. Even the slightest risk. It would have been fine for herself but not a little girl. If Mo had asked, but he hadnt. She still hadnt met his parents. Oh well.
But the way it was portrayed, it could never have been as bad as that: wars and bombs, suicides and assassinations and the poverty and disease; religious fanatics everywhere all waving their fists at you; people just so angry, they were angry all the time, why were they so angry? everybody was just so angry it made you shudder seeing them and all millions of them; it was America did it with their policies and how they didnt care about people starving and dying but only their own wealth and taking other people’s resources, just stealing them really. It was true. They stole everything and then were annoyed if you told them to stop like how children behave. But Mo was prejudiced too because it was America so it had to be bad, him and his mates, but if it was religion and men’s attitudes my God even walking down the street if it was over there, Pakistan or wherever, what did he know about that? If you were a white woman and just dressed ordinary then you were evil and no better than a prostitute, men all looking at you and all their hypocrisy, oh yes, they wanted you for sex and then called you a prostitute, wanting to punish you and cover you up, it was so shocking, they would put you in a sack, if you were a woman my God if ever you did go there you would just be angry all the time and if you went into the country and got lost, without any roads, not proper ones, or even in the city, a crowded street with market stalls and you could hardly move between people, all claustrophobic and you got separated. And if you were snatched. It happened. What if it was a little girl?
It would never have happened because Helen would never have taken her. That was the one thing. If Helen ever was to go it wouldnt be until Sophie had grown. Even then. Perhaps she would never take her at all.
Helen closed her eyes and rested back on the chair. She couldnt even sleep properly.
Then Mo’s family too, what about them? Caught by a white woman. His mother said that, apparently. English woman was white woman. English woman with her own baby. They hadnt expected Mo to get caught by an English woman with her own baby which meant white woman with her own baby. ‘Own baby’. Of course ‘own baby’. Whose did they expect? It made you laugh if you didnt cry. Mo laughed. Helen didnt. She didnt cry either. It was just nothing. At one time it would have upset her. Now it didnt. Really, it didnt.
There was so much else. People’s fights and feuds. It was silly nonsense. English woman. What did it matter? Scottish and English. Prejudice was everywhere. In casinos you met all nationalities under the sun but prejudice was there too, and hate, you saw hate. Then if you were white they expected you to be the same. You were prejudiced too. That was expected. They even winked at you when the person couldnt see. It was so so cowardly, and making you a coward too! Why bring you into it? If they want to be racist cowards they can be but why bring in other people? Just because you are white doesnt mean you are prejudiced. And the violence, always violence, wanting to hurt and kill. They were supposed to be Christians but didnt act like Christians.
That was the big joke for Mo because Christians, how do they act? meaning not good, meaning prejudiced; meaning that was the way they did act, in real life, them and the Jews, it was them that were prejudiced, even the Pope, if you heard what he said. Prejudice was everywhere and not under the surface. Every time you got on a bus; everywhere. But Mo’s friends too. One time in the house she heard them about black people. She was in the company so what did it say about her? what they thought about her, to say it with her sitting there? It was so unforgivable. Helen couldnt believe her ears; a football match on television and the comments they made that were just like racist and horrible. Mo said it was a joke but it wasnt a joke, how could it be a joke it could not be a joke. If they were good men and went to the Mosque, what did it matter? and didnt smoke or drink, who cared about that? smoking or drinking, it was like eating fish, just silly, and then they abused people, other human beings. If that was Muslims and religion, my God, it was all just the same, Catholics and Protestants, it didnt stop the prejudice, they were all as bad, and her ex, just the same as him, hating people. She wanted
away from it all, everything, from everything that was remotely like that, where you could bring up your children and be free from all of it; and the lies, she hated the lies; lies and falsity; pretending to be something they werent. That was people. It didnt matter where it came from, not if that was how they were and they hurt people; why did they hurt people? All the killings and murders and even babies, they didnt care if it was babies, and children, little boys and girls, you saw their smile, such innocence and like trust, trust, just believing what they would believe, little girls.
Oh God, where did her head go? Where did it not go. And Dad too, poor old Dad.
Why was she thinking of Dad? except if it was him and Brian, what went on with them. It was a mystery.
But she was glad Sophie was white. She had to say that because if she wasnt, if she was not white. It made things easier. She felt sorry for foreign people; immigrants and asylum seekers. Even before knowing Mo. At the same time it was an education. What if she hadnt met him? She was so lucky. He was different from the macho stuff, so different. He was gentle! He would hate her saying it but he was.
Oh why could she not sleep if she could only sleep! She couldnt. It didnt matter nights off and days off the only time she could sleep was when she wasnt supposed to, watching television or sitting down someplace, she did it in the cinema and in a restaurant too one time she nodded off and in company someone talking to her and trying to concentrate oh what was the woman saying what was she saying just trying to concentrate and losing it and her eyelids, drooping, drooping eyelids and you could not let them touch together and if they did they could not stay closed for long or you would be asleep and you could not it was so not polite and just not funny and she was trying so hard but only maybe a moment longer if she could only, her eyelids together and touching and that was her and she was oh then the voice breaking in Are you sleeping? Surely you arent sleeping!
And the person had been so annoyed my God instead of worrying if Helen was okay they took it personally, that they had been slighted; their conversation was so boring you fell asleep during it. Well perhaps it was. But no, it wasnt that and Helen had to say sorry. It was funny though. But bad manners, it was like bad manners. Dad wouldnt have minded her falling asleep, not like if she was tired and so so exhausted, he would have worried about her and how was she and how was her health, he would have worried about that, so if anything happened to her. Things did happen. It wasnt only foreign countries. The number of people who disappeared. What happened to them? Some were murdered and were found later. Some never were. Children too, they ran away from home and lived on the streets. Until they were old enough for a job, then they got a flat, if they could afford it, or shared in one, maybe rented a room, or a bed. People rented beds and shared them, one for nightshift one for dayshift, and it was the same bed. London was astronomical. People would be better elsewhere. They just preferred London, they could get by there and be safe, they felt safe, Mo said that, all different nationalities and colours, everything under the sun. But things did happen, horrible dreadful things.
Whatever time it was, she had to shift herself. But Mo wouldnt sleep in. She could rely on that. It didnt matter what else his alarm would go off and he would be out of bed. That was him thank God, above all else, that is what she wanted, somebody she could rely on, who would do what he said he would do; Mo was Mo and always that was him.
It was not cold. She pulled the coat to her chin.
Although it didnt matter. If she did sleep they would waken her. She wouldnt sleep, not now. But she had work to do anyway so that was good. Ironing and whatnot it was piling, it really was. Just so little space she needed space, space space space. And to make space she had to separate out the pile of clothes she had washed yesterday or the day before, whenever she had done it, the ironing and non-ironing pile, and put the next wash on and be ironing the ironing pile of Sophie’s, it was all Sophie’s, she had more clothes than Helen my God why shouldnt she, a little girl went through more and it was up to Mummy to see it right, Mummy Mummy, she was the one, she would do it, she could and she would; if she didnt sleep within ten minutes she was rising from this chair, even if she didnt sleep later, once they had left for school, she didnt always sleep, it didnt matter, she had too much to do. Even if she did fall asleep at the tables. But it would just be so funny if she did, and the customer was asking, Card please! And the dealer was snoring, oh my God that would just be so funny, the customer complaining to the Inspector: Oh I asked the dealer for a card and she was fast asleep!
Serve them right anyway with no homes to go to, in a casino at four o’clock in the morning gambling all their money and other people dont even have money, working six nights a week in restaurants and even that isnt enough. Mo needed another job during the day, three or four hours would do him. 10 a.m. until 2 p.m. was ideal. If he could, and he thought he could only he was resisting it because when would they see each other? He said they would never see each other.
So he had feelings for her!
Oh she knew he did. Only if he wasnt there she saw no one at all, not outside the casino. He had mates, he had family, she had nobody. Not in her home life, an actual conversation like with an adult, unless if she spoke to another mother at the school gate, when she was collecting Sophie. Mo had to be at the restaurant by 5 p.m. He was home by eleven thirty. This by special arrangement. He should have been there until one in the morning but the owners allowed it. He called them slave drivers but really they were friends and he did favours for them like when he worked up in Glasgow. A proper worker gets paid a wage, all I get is pocket money. Mo said that but he was kidding. It was through them also that they got Azizah. It was for her Mo had to be home by eleven thirty. She lived in the street round the corner so getting home was easy, but she was only fifteen years old and you couldnt be too careful.
Her parents had expected Mo to walk her home but how could he? Mo said he would be there and back in three minutes, but even three. A child in the home? Accidents everywhere. Anything could happen.
And what if it was to him it happened? People dont consider that. If he got knocked down crossing the street. Sophie wakes up and goes looking for him in the kitchen or like my God if she went downstairs and out. It was a nightmare. Gangs on the street. People got beat up, racists. Mo said not to worry about it but it was put upon her and she had to. She would have preferred not. But every time she stepped out the house. Mo laughed the first time she asked because every time you step out the house, if you include looks, that was the racism, every single time. Helen did include looks. Looks were horrible. Looks pierced your stomach. ‘Pierced’ was Mo’s word. People stayed in their own place because of it. That was ghettoes, stay in your ghetto. Ghettoes sounded awful, that was Jews and Hitler. Stay in your own ghetto; so then you are safe. Mo told her. It was second nature to him. He remembered his mother cleaning beneath the front door because people shoved rubbish through the letterbox when she was wee, and excrement, and lighted newspapers to burn them alive, and people wouldnt care if it happened, little old ladies or boys and girls. Things happened and didnt get reported, only in the community, the community was strong. News travelled word of mouth. That was how you heard. It was a bit like neighbours, like how neighbours want to know your business, then everybody knows. But if you told the police it only got you in trouble; they asked you the questions so it was like you, you got the blame. Mo said that. They werent there to catch criminals, just control people, and that meant blacks and Asians or else asylum seekers, immigrants. But if these were crimes against people it was like criminals doing them so if they werent reported then they would get away with it, and keep doing the crimes. People had to stand up for things. That was what Helen thought and she told Mo, if you were too cynical, sometimes he was.
Even just talking to people. No wonder she worried. He was always talking to people, so if he met somebody and was chatting. Send him a message in the morning and he didnt come back till the afternoon. He couldnt have left Sop
hie for one minute never mind three. Azizah’s grandfather came for her, he walked her home, when he could get away, because with him and Mo talking; Azizah had to drag him!
What was nice with Azizah was how Sophie liked her and became quite excited waiting for her to arrive. More excited than for her mother’s departure! Oh well. But it was good she did.
Helen remembered being fifteen. People took advantage. They tried to anyway. Not everybody, Gary Thompson; he didnt try anything. Whatever happened to him? My God. Gary was just too young. Her first real boyfriend. He didnt try anything! He was so respectful, or he didnt know.
Some were too young and some were too old. And the in-between ones were the worst. They treated you like shit, they had no respect. You were not on any pedestal with them. The opposite. Did they even respect themselves? They start off okay then everything changes. People do change. Men especially. When had her ex changed? He didnt was the quick answer. He had all the arrogance going and was as selfish, so selfish, as selfish as anybody ever could be. My God, thinking about that, what she put up with, just so so – however could she have put up with it? She was at a ‘low ebb’, because she was at a low ebb. That was what Jill said. People put up with things at a low ebb. You have to get positive and then you dont put up with it, then you fight back. Yes, and that was what Helen did, and she managed it, and then Mo was there and like his support, she had that, and at the right time and that was so crucial, so so crucial. It didnt matter about her ex and the problems he had. Of course he had problems, everybody has problems. For her it was him. Not any longer.
