by James Kelman
She was not going along the walkway. There was lighting. She was not going. If it was a place the two homeless guys would have gone. Probably it was, if there were benches; probably there were benches. So a place to sit, to rest, if you were homeless. God. But Helen was not going along it. These places were creepy, very very. Okay she was brave but not foolish.
She was brave.
But she was.
One thing about working in casinos, like creepy guys, it prepared you for them. Every night of the week there was something, including ‘propositions’. She told Mo about them, she shouldnt have. It was to see the funny side. Although it was true, men did ask her out on a regular basis, and they werent all drunk! And they werent all creepy. Some were nice, not bad and not horrible. Mind you it was better he didnt know about them. That was a mistake she made with her ex. She thought he wanted to hear. He said he did but he didnt. Some did: they liked hearing about other men fancying their women or whatever, even sleeping with them, him and his nude sunbathing, why didnt he do it? Helen nearly told him about Mr Adams. He was the very one she wanted to tell. That was so so strange. He was the very one never to tell but she was wanting to, so so wanting to and like having to stop herself doing it, put a scarf in your mouth my God what would he have done he would have killed her.
A car coming. She turned her head to avoid the appearance of looking, in case the driver thought something he shouldnt. The car continued on but quite slowly like she was ‘on the game’, if they thought that, the driver. God, if she had been. She wouldnt have been walking the street. Never, never never.
What would she have been doing?
Not in the street anyway! My God it was so so uncomfortable!
But it wasnt funny why was she smiling? she was smiling, why was she?
It was cold and damp, at least not raining, very quiet, lonely. The car had gone thank heaven.
She would have had a proper flat, not taking terrible chances down alleyways and car-park spaces; behind bushes in grass squares and even the back closes of office buildings, it was appalling, there was always news of prostitutes found dead, and tortured; tortured. Men tortured them, they tortured the women, the worst most horrible things. How could people torture people? Other human beings? What happened in their life? Something must have happened. They couldnt just be evil. Mo said they were like if they had lost God, if they had turned from Him, so they had to find Him again, because it was Hell if they didnt. Mo believed in Hell. He didnt say he did. But he didnt say he didnt. He was supposed to. Hell was there and so were angels like for Catholics and Protestants. If he believed in them. Perhaps he did. Although not Hell, surely not Hell? Not with children. How could you with children? It was horrible if he did. Because just like that was his belief, and he was clever, he was, and just common sense, that was Mo, common sense, so if he believed in Hell. He didnt say he did but he didnt say he didnt.
Although Helen did believe in God. Truly, she did. What else could explain things? She hadnt been sure before but she did now, she really did, she did believe. But not Hell. Imagine children, that was so so unimaginable, just like – unimaginable.
But she would have had a proper flat. She wouldnt have taken such risks. These women took terrible risks. Why do people take such risks? Helen would never have walked the streets.
She smiled at the thought, even she could have laughed; almost she could have. It was so ridiculous. The conversations she had with herself were fantastic. Now she was a prostitute and being choosy about her clientele! What next? Even as a child. Honestly, she hadnt changed. In school she was known for it. She once told her schoolmates that her mother was a famous dancer and her legs were the longest of anybody and had to be insured for lots of money in case they got broken and she couldnt dance. Her pals believed her! What is wrong with an imagination? Children have them, like it or not. They need them too. They take you out yourself, and you need that, coorying down with the blankets over your head, into your own wee world and just safe and away from everything, away, that was all, she wanted that and needed it, like a lot of children, that was her; she was not unique, she was so not unique. She didnt care about any of it, only having to find things out. Children do, they have to. Because if the adults dont tell them. Why dont they tell them? Why dont adults? They dont tell them. Tell the children. So so horrible and unfair. So they have to find out for themselves, if the adults dont tell them. So they make mistakes. Helen made mistakes. Girls do. All children. Sometimes it was funny, like so funny, just how the misunderstandings. Sophie got all mixed up with what she was to do and not to do. Strangers were bad because they said naughty words. No Sophie. Perhaps they did but that wasnt why children had to avoid them. Like taking sweets from strangers; if you didnt take them the strangers would take them away and give them to somebody else; take what away? the sweets or the children? It was comical.
Helen would have gone with anybody when she was a child. It was only natural. Sophie was the same. Only never hit her. Never hit a child. Why hit a child? And if it is not her fault? It is so horrible.
She could have gone to the police about Brian. Only what would she have said? It wasnt the case of a missing person. The person was there. He might not even have been missing like only if he was missing to her and Mum. Because he didnt want them to know where he was. And if he was on the street. Of course he wouldnt want them to know. He would have been ashamed, especially in front of his little sister, even more than Mum.
So if it was him. Either it was or it wasnt. She had to know. She had to.
Only not dwelling on it, one way or the other. If she found him she found him. And if she didnt, better letting it rest, if she could. The past was the past. Why rake everything up? She had no intention of raking everything up. Only like if it was Brian she wanted to see him; she truly truly did. Even to know it was him. Not having to do anything more. She didnt feel she had to. She didnt feel forced. Only if it was him. Why else was she here? If she didnt want to find him. Of course she did. Because if he was ill. Else why was he walking the street? He should have been in hospital. That was it with people, they had no place to go, so they walked about, with that look on their face, my God! The way he stared at them! He frightened everybody.
It was almost like he was mad or something. Perhaps he was, just mentally like how people are ill and should be in hospital. Not mad so much as angry, so so angry; he was, and it changes your brain. How could Helen take him home? Not with a child in the house.
She wasnt going to feel guilty about it, if he was sleeping rough. She had enough problems. If it wasnt one thing it was another. What was she going to do? There was hardly room to swing a cat in their place my God.
Even thinking about it, she hated thinking about it. Thank goodness it was quiet. Although she knew what she was doing: home. Straight home. She had decided. If it was to be it was to be and if it wasnt it wasnt. Then the car from behind. She heard it and glanced back over her shoulder as it passed her by so slowly. Several yards on the driver braked sharply. Helen stopped walking. Two figures were inside. Three. She continued walking, steadily, staring to the front. But as she passed the car began moving and the passenger door swung open suddenly but also like calmly.
How could it be calmly? But it was; and that was the effect it had as if nothing else for it, only just get in, get in, like a trance, the guy calling to her, so getting into the car, if she was to get into the car. Keeping pace with her as she walked. She stared straight ahead.
A guy called to her: Hey, darling … You fancy a little run? You want to come with us? What d’you say? Hey, hey darling, fancy a little run?
She kept walking. The car kept moving. The men were laughing, but the urgency, she knew the urgency, she knew it; men, she knew it, in this man’s voice, almost like a tremble. Hey darling, you are beautiful, yeh, total pleasure guaranteed, you want to come with us?
She kept walking.
You hear what I’m saying, mature man knows the ropes yeh, check the advert
s, like your pleasure, yeh, is our guarantee.
The car jerked ahead now and halted. Helen paused then stepped up to the car door and grabbed at it shouting: Fuck off will you! Just fuck off!
She shoved the door shut and strode on. Was it laughter she heard? She didnt know, couldnt make it out, if it was or just like in her head, whatever. Then another car engine and she quickened on faster till she saw it was a taxi thank God and was running and calling, Taxi! Taxi!
It stopped for her. The other car had gone. Cowards, such cowards. She fumbled the passenger door open, but didnt climb inside. She held onto the door handle.
You alright sweetheart? The driver had a concerned look, and genuine.
Helen attempted a smile. It didnt work. She released the handle and backed off, and waved him away.
The driver’s irritation was obvious. Oh well. If he hadnt called her ‘sweetheart’. ‘Dear’ was bad enough, she didnt like ‘dear’, but ‘sweetheart’, that was like ‘pet’ or ‘flower’, bloody dandelion. The taxi had disappeared.
At least she knew what she was doing. Home! Right now. So why let the taxi go for God sake Helen Helen Helen? because she was going mad, simple and straightforward. Mrs Simple. Tomorrow was her day-off.
Today. Tomorrow was today for nightshift workers. Her and Mo would go someplace with Sophie. The whole day was theirs. He would make the food. Or her. Or together, and Sophie helping. A movie. She so looked forward to it.
That was so typical of her letting the taxi go. So so – just foolish. She was. Then they were on the other side of the street my God the familiarity like she had been dreaming about and here they were the two of them, coming out of the shadows along from the walkway, the one with the limp and him with the beard and the woollen cap.
They were quite a distance away but the shape, the resemblance, it was so so Brian, really and truly my God! the height and the skinniness! coat-hanger shoulders, that was Dad, Mr Malinky and that walk of his, that walk, who else? Helen laughed to see it, she did, it was just so Brian my God it was her big brother, just so amazing; how strange was that, just so amazing. What a strange strange moment. If he turned to look back. He didnt, he just was walking and pausing, going that slow way to keep pace with his mate.
A white van approached in the opposite direction towards the traffic lights, then through on the green and out of sight.
Helen was clutching her bag, and aware that she was, staying on the other side of the road and that distance back from them. If they didnt turn round. They didnt, so didnt see her. It was like her entire existence.
They were heading toward the bridge.
She wanted to run but to keep a safe gap between them too, needing to be sure. She was sure but needed to be even more sure, just like for certain, so she knew for certain.
The two guys walked so slowly she would catch up and she didnt want to. She kept to the side of the pavement, the shadows, and paused by a wall. The smell of urine. Oh well.
You know something. There was no reason to do anything. Helen felt that so so strongly, so like just strongly. If she didnt want to do anything then nothing, so be it, just like nothing.
But it was true.
She smiled. Because really there was no going back on the decision. That was cheery. Although what was it she was to do?
The two homeless guys
She started running immediately, running after them. It was just to get to them, to Brian, also like explaining, wanting to explain it to him, just about everything, everything, everything she thought and felt, that had happened, everything. If she missed him now she would never find him again. She knew that clearly.
She knew everything clearly, really like she knew, she just knew. Her entire life, the strangest strangest feeling like never ever, destined never, how her life never, would never begin. That was so so strange, never to begin and here she was with a six-year-old daughter my God and it was her life, her life to begin, and it had begun. And Brian didnt know. He didnt. She would tell him. Everything would be out in the open.
About Mum and Dad too, how it was their life, and just so unlucky, that was how it was for so so many people and if the cards turned that way it was like bust, you were. Brian too, it was just unlucky, he had had an unlucky life and that was so so unfair, just so unfair. But Helen was the same. Most people are. She couldnt have done anything. She didnt have that control. Girls dont. If Brian thought otherwise he was mistaken, very very mistaken.
She needed to tell him that too and everything that had happened, how things had been for her in her life and her marriage; he didnt know any of that, and about her ex, if he had been there for her but he never was. If he thought it had been easy for her my God how wrong he was like so completely completely wrong, completely wrong. It was all such a fight. She could have wept. Such a horrible bloody fight, if he thought she was lucky, how wrong was he just so so wrong. What had he done in his life? He didnt think about her, just a wee girl, if she needed a brother. Of course she did. What girl didnt? She would have loved that brother. Only it was him.
There was a man in a dark suit coming towards her and he moved sideways or she might have crashed into him. She had started running, clopping along in those heels
Up ahead the one with the limp lagged a little, then the two stopped a moment, perhaps hearing the sharp clop clop clop of her shoes, and they glanced back. The tall skinny guy frowned and turned away, but edged to the kerb, expecting her to charge past. Instead she clapped her hand to his shoulder, as though grabbing him. He was taken by surprise and tried to shrug her off, shouting at her, something. She grabbed at his left arm, grasped it tightly, clinging onto him, not even hearing his voice just like what he was saying, what was he saying? she didnt know and he muttered something and swung round, locked his right hand on her throat for her so to let go, to make her let go his arm, and her trying to gulp, she was choking and clawing scratching at his hand. His grip was locking off her breath and she was forced backwards how he was forcing her backwards, till she staggered and crumpled to the ground, the other one shouting, whatever he was shouting. Then she was lying on her side but seeing to the sky. The tall skinny one was bending over her but it was all just shadows and spots, and she stayed lying there, and when her eyes were open properly the two of them had vanished.
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HAMISH HAMILTON
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First published 2012