Me Mam. Me Dad. Me

by Duffy, Malcolm;

  ‘Lived here a long time, Danny. I guess it’s all part of the new Stevie, the new improved Stevie.’

  ‘So how long have you and Megan been going out?’

  ‘Three years.’ He smiled when he said this, like his head was thinking of her. ‘She’s a top lass. Means the world to me.’

  ‘I’ve got a lass.’

  ‘Have you?’ said Stevie, surprised.

  ‘Aye, Amy Reynolds. She’s dead bonny.’

  ‘Well, don’t make the same mistake I made.’

  After driving for a bit Stevie turned into Edinburgh Zoo, and we joined a queue at the ticket office. Stevie paid. I said thanks. Mam always tells me to say that, though I nearly always forget.

  Stevie opened up a little map of the zoo. ‘Where do you want to go first?’

  Only one answer.

  ‘Lions.’

  ‘Lions it is.’

  The lions were right at the top of the zoo. We walked up loads of twisty paths till we found their den. They were Asiatic ones. You can also have African lions but the zoo didn’t have any of them. Maybe they couldn’t afford them. Probably spent all their money on penguins and stuff.

  In the wild lions run dead fast, jump on deer and eat them. They act a bit different in Scotland, just wandering round, looking a bit bored. But I knew that they could still tear your head off in a flash. Shame me mam didn’t have one. I kept thinking about what I’d heard on the phone last night, wondering what he’d done to her.

  We watched the lions for about twenty minutes. Should have saved them till last. Monkeys, zebras, koalas, birds, are nothing compared to lions. We went down the hill and saw a couple of big pools with lots of penguins waddling around and swimming. A girl in a uniform threw fish to them. They caught them like world-class keepers, in their gobs, and swallowed the whole lot without even chewing. Penguins must get real gut rot.

  ‘Has your mam got a boyfriend?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘What’s he do?’

  Hits her.

  ‘He’s into computers.’

  Stevie nodded like this was a good job. Suppose it’s better than sandwiches.

  ‘Does she ever talk… about me?’

  ‘Never.’

  I looked at Stevie to see if he was angry about this, but he wasn’t. Just staring at the penguins. Time to ask Stevie an important question.

  ‘Do you think you’ll ever go back to Gateshead?’

  ‘There’s nothing there for me.’

  ‘There’s me.’

  Not sure I should have said that, but it was too late. Words are like helium balloons, once you let them go you can’t get them back.

  Stevie didn’t say anything for a bit, like he was thinking about what I’d said.

  ‘Do you want to go see the pandas?’ he said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because they’re as rare as square eggs, that’s why.’

  Could tell Stevie was keen on the idea, so off we went to the panda den. One of them, the boy panda, was asleep under a pile of leaves, but the girl panda was awake, lying on a ledge.

  ‘They’re amazing, aren’t they?’ said Stevie.

  Couldn’t see what was amazing about them. They were just lying there, not like they were juggling balls or riding bicycles or anything.

  ‘So where are the other pandas?’ I said, looking round.

  ‘There are only two of them, Sweetie and Sunshine. They’re hoping they’ll breed.’

  ‘If they want them to breed, why are they in different cages?’

  ‘They only breed for two days a year.’

  ‘Pandas are weird. I like their colours, though.’

  Stevie found a café. I had sausage, chips, beans, a biscuit and a cola. Stevie just had a coffee. No wonder he’s so skinny. He didn’t say much while I was eating. I needed to get him on my side. Decided to talk about football.

  ‘So which team do you support?’

  ‘Hibs.’

  ‘What sort of name’s that?’

  ‘A great name. They were founded by an Irishman. Hibernian is the Roman name for Ireland.’

  ‘A Scottish football team called Ireland, that’s mental.’

  ‘Suppose you support the Toon?’

  Grinned and nodded. It made me feel good, just thinking about them.

  After the zoo we went back to Stevie’s flat. I needed to find out how strong he was.

  ‘How many press-ups can you do?’

  ‘Press-ups, how the hell should I know? Twenty, maybe a few more.’

  ‘Let’s see you, then.’

  ‘You cheeky bampot.’

  ‘So you can’t do any, then?’

  ‘’Course I can.’

  Stevie rolled up his sleeves, pulled the sofa out of the way, got down on the floor, and off he went. I did the counting.

  ‘One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…’

  Stevie stopped and held himself up on straight arms, panting like a dog in a hot car.

  ‘Told you you couldn’t do it.’

  ‘I’ll show you,’ he grunted.

  Off he went again.

  ‘Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…’

  Just when I thought he was going to do it Stevie’s arms collapsed and he fell on his face on the carpet. Not sure he’d ever beat FB in a fight. But for the first time since I got here I saw Stevie laugh, a proper laugh, like you do when someone falls over on the telly.

  The front door opened and Megan walked in, shaking a brolly. She looked down at Stevie on the floor.

  ‘What in God’s name’s going on?’

  ‘Press-ups,’ he said.

  ‘You’re a numpty, Stevie Rivers.’

  Megan went in the kitchen while me and Stevie sat on the sofa watching telly. Smells told us food was on the way. Stevie went and got some trays and we all sat down with tea on our knees. Chicken in breadcrumbs with chips.

  ‘So how was your day, fellas?’ said Megan.

  ‘Canny.’

  ‘Where’d you go?’

  ‘The zoo,’ said Stevie.

  ‘Poor animals,’ said Megan. ‘They shouldn’t be locked up.’

  Especially not in Scotland.

  ‘It’s keeping them alive,’ said Stevie.

  ‘Yes, but in a cage.’

  ‘Life imprisonment is better than the death penalty.’

  Megan shook her head as if she wasn’t sure. Don’t think she’ll be going to see the pandas.

  ‘So what yous doing tomorrow?’ she asked.

  ‘What do you fancy doing, Danny?’ said Stevie.

  ‘Dunno, Dad.’

  Wazzocks. Times a million.

  Twenty-Four

  • • •

  Didn’t think three little letters could cause so much trouble, but they had.

  Megan screamed the place down, then threw her dinner all over the floor. ‘Stevie,’ she shouted. ‘Tell me what is going on, right now.’

  I guess Stevie could have said, ‘He’s only joking’, but he wasn’t quick enough. It’s easier to lie when you’ve got time to plan. But when you get caught, like at school, it’s hard to lie right. That’s what happened to Stevie. He just went as white as his plate, then looked at me like I was the worst thing in the world.

  ‘I don’t know what is going on,’ he said slowly.

  Megan glared at him, the veins in her neck sticking out like the wires round the back of the telly.

  ‘He’s not lying, is he?’ she said. ‘He’s telling the truth, he’s your son.’

  It took a long time coming, but Stevie finally did a nod.

  ‘I should have known all that stuff about him being your cousin was complete nonsense.’

  Megan looked at the ceiling, the door, me, the telly, like she didn’t know where to send her eyes. But she still had that mad look on her face, as if she was going to hit him, or me, or anyone else who turned up.

  ‘Somebody wake me up from this nightmare,’ she said. ‘What have you brought him
here for, Stevie, and why now? We’re supposed to be getting married.’

  Don’t think Stevie liked that word ‘supposed’, as in they might not. He shook his head. Looked one hundred per cent miserable. ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘Good thing we’ve got all night, then, isn’t it?’ said Megan, nostrils flaring like a bull ready to charge. ‘How long have we been going out?’

  ‘Three years.’

  ‘Yes, three years, and in that time we’ve talked about the weather, celebrities, politics, music, sport, loads of stuff. Funny how you couldn’t find a few seconds to mention one rather important fact: that you’re a father.’

  I wondered if Stevie had told her he also used to be dead bad. Better not say anything about that. She’d kill him.

  ‘I had a one-night stand back in Gateshead when I was sixteen. The girl got pregnant. Everyone in the family was furious.’

  ‘Can’t imagine why. And how old was she?’

  ‘Fifteen.’

  ‘Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.’

  ‘Mam and Dad had had enough of me, so I got sent to Edinburgh to live with Uncle Connor and Aunty Fiona. I never saw the girl again. Never saw the boy again, till now. End of story.’

  ‘No, not end of story, Stevie, start of story. Unless you hadn’t noticed, your little bit of history has just returned. Your flesh and blood is sleeping on our bloody sofa.’

  ‘I didn’t ask him to come.’

  ‘Oh, and that makes it all right, does it? Because he’s your uninvited child it’s somehow all right?’

  There were tears in Megan’s eyes. She tried to screw them away, but they wouldn’t go. She turned her red eyes on me.

  ‘If Stevie didn’t invite you, what did you come here for?’

  Thought it best not to tell her.

  ‘Just wanted to see me… dad.’

  ‘No, you want money,’ said Megan, staring at me, like I was some sort of monster. ‘Child support, that’s what this is about, isn’t it? Your ma sent you here. You’re after money, it’s always about money.’ Megan looked around the flat and laughed. ‘What bloody money?’

  ‘She didn’t send me here. I came by meself.’

  ‘You expect me to believe that?’

  ‘It’s the truth.’

  ‘But she knows you’re here, right?’

  Shook me head.

  ‘Oh, Heaven save me, he’s a runaway. The poliss’ll be after him.’

  ‘They won’t. She thinks I’m on a school trip.’

  Megan’s mouth dropped open like a ventriloquist’s dummy.

  ‘He’s telling the truth, Meg,’ said Stevie.

  ‘That’s big, coming from you, a man who’s been lying through his teeth all these years.’ Megan looked back at me. ‘So if she didn’t send you, who told you where Stevie lived?’

  ‘Me Aunty Tina. Nobody else would say. She thought I was just going to write to him.’

  The room fell quiet, apart from the man on the telly, who was talking about making puddings. Stevie broke the silence.

  ‘I’m sorry, Meg.’

  ‘I thought I could trust you, Stevie. When exactly were you going to tell me all this? At the altar? Signing the register? On our honeymoon?’

  Stevie heaved out a big breath. ‘If you want the truth, Meg, I was never going to tell you. It happened such a long time ago. It was all a mistake, one great massive mistake.’ Hated being called that. ‘I thought I could just bury it. Haven’t you ever done something in the past you don’t want to talk about?’

  ‘Aye, but nothing quite like this. Not a bairn, Stevie, not a bloody bairn. She sniffed. ‘So what else have you failed to tell me?’

  ‘Nothing, Meg,’ he lied. ‘That’s it.’

  Stevie went over and tried to put his hand on Megan’s but she slapped it away.

  ‘Let’s talk about this in private,’ said Stevie. ‘Let’s go to The Stag.’

  Megan looked at the food on the floor. The sauce had sunk into the carpet, like blood. It would take ages to clean up, but I don’t think she was that bothered. Then she turned to me.

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘He got to Scotland on his own. Reckon he can sit in a flat by himself for a few hours.’

  Megan nodded.

  Stevie went over to the pegs, took two coats down, then looked at me, an evil face on, like he wanted to kill me.

  Slam.

  Gone.

  I normally like the telly on when I’m on me own, but not tonight. I switched the Scotsman off. It was dead quiet. All I could hear was the breath coming out me nose. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. We’d had a good day, considering he didn’t want me within a million miles of him. All I’d said was one word. And what’s wrong with saying ‘Dad’? I mean, he is.

  Needed to call me mam.

  Press. Press. Press.

  Ring. Ring. Ring.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hi, Mam,’ I said, trying hard to sound normal.

  ‘Oh, hi, Danny,’ said me mam, in her nice call-centre voice. ‘How’s it going, pet?’

  Could tell that FB wasn’t around.

  ‘Okay.’

  Then her voice changed.

  ‘Danny, did you hide Callum’s beer in the garage?’

  What could I say, the cans sprouted wings and flew there?

  ‘Yes, Mam.’

  ‘Callum was angry, really angry.’

  Didn’t even want to think what that could mean.

  ‘Did he…?’

  ‘No, Danny. I told him I needed more room in the fridge. Said the garage was cold enough this time of year.’

  Proud of me mam. Just as sneaky as me.

  ‘I just wish you’d told me what you’d done, Danny.’

  ‘Sorry, Mam. I was just…’

  ‘I know what you were doing.’

  Silence.

  She didn’t want to talk about it. The subject that could never be turned into words.

  ‘So what did you do today?’ she asked.

  ‘Went out.’

  ‘Of course you went out, you’re in the Lake District. Not the sort of place you stay in. What’s the weather like?’

  I grabbed the paper from the sofa, and found the weather for the Lake District. ‘It was cool, eight degrees. Sunny spells with a few showers. Light westerly winds.’

  ‘You sound like the weatherman.’

  Lucky she didn’t check. I’d read the wrong paper. That was yesterday’s weather.

  ‘Bet there’s lots of snoring in your room.’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘And other sounds.’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘When you study English do you ever use any other words than “aye”?’

  ‘Aye.’

  Mam laughed. For about a second.

  She knows. Mams always know.

  ‘Just a bit homesick, I bet.’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘You’ll call me tomorrow night?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Love you, Danny.’

  ‘Love you too, Mam.’

  But she hadn’t finished yet.

  ‘And in future before you do anything stupid, you promise you’ll tell me first?’

  Twenty-Five

  •

  I woke with a jump.

  For a minute I couldn’t figure out where on earth I was. Then I heard mumbly Scottish voices, and it all tumbled back into me head – the train, Edinburgh, the flat, Stevie, Megan, me, Dad. They were still arguing about that word.

  I looked around. The telly was off, so were the lights, the food had gone from the floor, and there was a blanket on me, a thick tartan one. I got up, put me clothes on and sat on the sofa. Was thinking about Amy and Lanky Dave when the bedroom door opened. It was Megan. She had her dress and a jacket on. She didn’t look as pretty as yesterday, her hair all messy, her cheeks white, her eyes squidged tight. She had one of those little cases with a long handle for people who are too lazy to carry them.

  �
�Morning, Danny.’

  It wasn’t a smiley voice. It was a voice that said, This is all your fault.

  ‘Morning, Megan.’

  She pulled her case towards the door.

  ‘You going away?’ I said.

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Somewhere nice?’

  ‘Cowdenbeath. Not that nice.’

  For a horrible moment I thought her and Stevie might both be going to Cowdenbeath without me. I didn’t fancy being stuck in Scotland on me own for a week, with just a Scottish telly.

  ‘Is Stevie going?’

  Megan shook her head.

  ‘When you coming back?’

  ‘I don’t know, Danny, I just don’t know.’

  She opened the door, wheeled her case out and slammed the door behind her, wham, before I could find out.

  Quiet.

  I lay back on the sofa looking at the ceiling. Spotted a spider. Wondered if he talked Scottish. Be funny if he did. The bedroom door opened again. This time it was Stevie. He had red boxers on. They matched his eyes. He came and sat on the floor next to the sofa, where the food had been. Hope they’d wiped it up properly. He sat staring at nothing, like he was a zombie.

  ‘Megan’s gone to Cowdenbeath,’ I said, in case he didn’t know.

  He looked at me, like I was speaking foreign.

  ‘She’s gone to her ma’s,’ he said slowly.

  ‘Not gone on her holidays?’

  ‘No, Danny, Megan has not gone on her holidays. She’s left me.’

  Now that I had a girlfriend I knew how Stevie must be feeling. I also knew that it was mostly my fault. Megan would still be here if I’d kept me mouth shut. The rest of the fault belonged to Stevie. He should have told her.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell her?’

  Stevie exploded.

  ‘It’s none of your business what I tell, or don’t tell, my girlfriend, fiancée.’

  Stevie’s eyes had tears, but he killed them with his knuckles. His face was red like he’d been stung by bumblas. Didn’t look like a boy any more, he looked more like a man, an angry man.

  He got up and walked around the room. Then he sat down again. This time he couldn’t stop the tears. Great big ones running down his blotchy face on to his bare belly.

  ‘I don’t want her to go, Danny. I want her back.’

  She’d only been gone ten minutes.

  Stevie found a box of tissues from under the Daily Record and blew his nose, a gigantic snotty blow, like Barry does after football.