She was looking at the bush and pulling bits of twig out from the hole, which was really quite big.
Shall we blame it on the gypsies? I said, because whenever Mrs Mickey finds something gone, my dad always says, Those bloody gyppos were around again last night.
I’ll have to have a think. This can be our secret adventure, Enid, can’t it?
Does that mean I mustn’t tell Uncle Horace?
That’s right, you’re a clever girl. And don’t tell Geraint, either. Are you thirsty, sweetheart? I’m quite parched after our secret adventure.
So, now I get the bus. It’s okay. I just have to watch out for The Twins because even though they say their father has got a Range Rover to drive them everywhere, they always get on the bus the next stop after me and make a big deal of sniffing and saying Poo all the time.
Twelve
For my birthday I get:
A big thick book called the Pears Junior Encyclopaedia
A pair of boots which go all the way up the leg like Dick Whittington was wearing in the Panto last Christmas
A riding hat
A recorder for playing in the school orchestra
A gun
It’s not a real gun, only a pretend one, but it has a star on it like the Sheriff’s in Bonanza, and Geraint has shown me how to load and fire the caps. The smell is lovely when they go off, but after I do one whole roll, Aunty Celia says, That’s enough mayhem for one day, thank you, Enid, and puts the rest in her secret hiding place, which I know about on account of being a spy. It was Geraint’s old gun from when he was little but I don’t mind a bit. My mother always says it’s the thought that counts.
I want to wait for the postman for my dad’s card but Aunty Celia says Uncle Horace has to be in his works early and is taking me to school in the Rover as a special treat. Uncle Horace lets me sit in the front and he has covered all the seat and the floor with plastics. I feel a bit funny being on my own with Uncle Horace because even though I have been here for sixty-four days, he is always at his works or studying in his Study when he comes home so I do not really know him. He wears special gloves for driving, like the ones the murderers wear on telly, and he says, Would you like a sweetie, Enid? which makes me go on Red Alert.
No thank you, Uncle Horace, I say.
They’ll stop you feeling sick, he says, Go on, help yourself.
He leans over me and goes in the glove cupboard and fetches out a tin with all different fruits on the lid. I am double suspicious now because he is being so nice. Maybe they’re poisoned sweets and he is going to kidnap me?
Can you pass me one? he goes, so I think they must be not poisoned because I could give him a poisoned one if I wanted to, so I get one out for him and then I have a red one which is strawberry. Then I have a yellow one which is lemon, and then I have another lemon one because they are lovely and sharp, and then I’m going back in the tin to try an orange one and he goes,
I think that’s enough for now, Enid, don’t you?
He said I could help myself but he wasn’t really telling the truth. Geraint must get his lying off his dad. I keep the tin in my lap anyway because he’ll forget about it in a minute and then I’ll have the orange one.
How are you enjoying school? he says, because adults always ask you that when they don’t know what else to talk about.
Mrs Reynolds says I have got a musical ear, I say, and then I laugh because it’s funny thinking of my ear playing the piano.
Ah, yes, your Aunty Celia mentioned something about that. Maybe you should join the village choir, Enid? Geraint has been with them for the past four years.
Maybe, I say, thinking, No Deal, Buster, it’s bad enough seeing him after school. I help myself to the orange sweet, and just as I’m going for a crunch, something goes Clonk! in my mouth. The sweet must have a big hard bit inside. I try to crunch it but my mouth feels all wrong, like something’s missing. Then the hard bit pops out of my mouth and falls in the tin. It’s my front tooth!
Uncle Horace goes, Oh, Enid, don’t spit the sweets back in, that’s revolting! but I go, It’s my tooth, Uncle Horace.
Only when I say it, it sounds like, ‘It’th my thooth, Uncle Horath,’ and that makes me think of my dad when he had his tooth out and my mother kneeling down in her Negligee like a beautiful ghost and lying on the bed making her fingers walk like a caterpillar over my eyebrows and telling me all about Nettle’s Revenge, and I can’t hear her voice anymore and I can’t stop feeling the awful feeling filling up inside me like a million caps going off inside my heart.
Uncle Horace takes me back home and he says to Aunty Celia, It doesn’t matter, it’s half term next week anyway. I’ll try his factory.
Then he goes straight in his Study and shuts the door. Aunty Celia looks a bit cross for a minute, and she bends down really close to my face and says, Let’s see, Sweetheart.
But I don’t want to show her. The hole in her neck has nearly gone, so it’s not that. I don’t want her to take my tooth. I am going to give it to my dad to put on his Merican Indian necklace when he has it made. She says, Would you like some lemonade? and goes to fetch it for me.
My Encyclopaedia is on the table with my gun and my recorder and my riding hat, and my boots are under the table. I don’t feel like having a go on my recorder or my gun and anyway Uncle Horace comes out of his study and sits down next to me on the sofa and gives me a cuddle. Then he says, I’ve got a surprise for you, Enid.
Thank you, I say, but not very truthfully because I don’t really feel like having a surprise today.
You’ll see, he says, It’ll be here tomorrow.
Then he gives me another cuddle and goes to talk to Aunty Celia in the kitchen. I can’t be bothered to go and spy on them. The place where my tooth used to be feels big and empty.
Thirteen
My dad’s beard is so long now it’s like the one Father Time has got, only black. He’s sitting on the sofa with his arms stretched right out across the back like he does at home, and he keeps looking at me like I’ll go invisible if he stops. He’ll grin at me with his front tooth gone and I’ll grin back with mine gone too, and it’s hysterical when we do it, we can’t stop giggling.
He was on the front drive when me and Aunty Celia came back from the shops. First I thought, I’m having a dream, because I have a lot of dreams about my dad, and my mother especially, but then he put his arms out and said, Come here, Chicken, and gave me a massive cuddle, which NEVER happens in my dreams. While I was cuddling him back, he got hold of my hand and put it with his in his jacket pocket and said, Post! and pulled out my birthday card.
Sorry it’s late, Enid, but I wanted to deliver it in person, he said, which made my Aunty Celia laugh really high and clap her hands together. When we went inside, he brought out a little oblong wrapped up from his other pocket and said, Happy Birthday, my girl – and because I was just looking at the paper, he went – Go on, silly, unwrap it.
The first thing I saw was a picture of my mother stuck on the front of a book. I knew the picture already, it was out of the Famous Family Album from when we all went to Tenby for our holiday. She is standing in the door of the caravan and smiling and her hair is down long and she has these shiny beads round her neck which she always used to wear and loads of bracelets going up her arm. She is the most beautiful lady in the world. The book is called: The Water Nymph and the Dragonfly: Poems.
Look inside, said my dad, and his eyes were nearly crying and Aunty Celia’s eyes were nearly crying too.
The first page said, For my darling daughter, Enid, written in spirally black letters.
Did Mam write it? I said, because it didn’t look like her handwriting.
Of course she did, said my dad, and then he saw my face and he went, It’s her words, Enid, only when it’s in a book they have to put it in print.
Like in the South Wales Echo when they do her poems? I said, just to be sure.
Exactly. She dedicated that book to you. And all of the po
ems are about you. Why don’t you choose one and we’ll read it together?
But Aunty Celia said, Shall we do that after lunch? Horace is leaving the office early today, so we can all eat together. I’ll just go and call Geraint.
My dad gave her a look, but then he grinned at me and I grinned back and we were in fits again, and Aunty Celia said, I can’t imagine what’s so amusing.
She did a funny little dance like she needed a wee, which she always does when she gets her Nerves on, and then she went into the hall and shouted up the stairs, Geraint, get out of that stinking pit of yours! which is something she has never done before in Living History.
Geraint spends nearly every Saturday in his bedroom with the door shut, and all the nights when he isn’t out doing sports or singing practice. At first I spied on him a lot, but I never heard anything, only sometimes he would go, Aah! Aah! Aaaaah! like that. The first time he did it, I pretended I was just passing on the way to the bathroom and knocked on the door and said, Geraint, have you got toothache? because it sounded a bit like when my dad was at the dentist. But he didn’t say anything, everything just went dead quiet. The next day when I heard him again, I said louder, Geraint, have you still got toothache? And he opened the door all hot in the face and said, Fuck off you little squirt.
So I don’t suppose it is toothache only something quite painful which he doesn’t want to burden me with on account of me having no mother and only a father far away.
My dad has got a new tattoo; he shows it to me in the dining room while we’re waiting for Uncle Horace to come. It is a big heart with an arrow going through it on his chest just on top of where his real heart is. It’s got Maria written inside and flowers going in and out of the arrow and a gap underneath. When I touch it with my finger it feels all scabby.
I’ll have Enid put in there next, he says, pointing at the empty bit.
When I’m dead? I say, and my Aunty Celia drops the knife in the sink.
Enid! she goes, Don’t say such things!
It’s all right, Ceel, goes my dad, It’s a perfectly good question. Then he turns to me and says,
No, I’ll get it done next week, when this part has healed. The two people I love most in the world.
Have you got any more? asks Geraint, and in a jiffy my dad has got his shirt off and is showing him:
The horse called Pegasus on his left shoulder
The Celtic cross on his left arm
The Eagle in Flight on his left arm
The Welsh Dragon on his right shoulder
The Italian flag going through the Heel of Italy on his right arm
The Chinese lady with the parasol in the middle of his back
The Pouncing Leopard on the bottom part of his back which always looks like it is jumping out of his trousers.
Geraint goes very white, and Aunty Celia goes really pink and says, My, Carlo, your work must keep you very fit.
Then she drops the knife in the sink again and pretends to be looking for it in the bubbles.
You’ll do yourself a mischief, goes my dad, and he’s laughing and swishing his hand in the water and she’s going redder than a beetroot. Then the keys go in the front door and she runs out to the hall and the whole world can hear her going, Horace, darling, it’s you! and Uncle Horace goes, Of course it’s me, who else would it be? Have you had your beak in the trough again?
It’s soup and smoked salmon for lunch which is fish and horrible, like eating a slimy sock, so I only have soup and bread and tomatoes with loads of salt on them. The adults are having one of their polite conversations which is very boring, so to amuse myself I play at annoying Geraint. The best way is to copy every single thing he does. He reaches for his spoon, I reach for my spoon. He picks up his butter knife, I pick up my butter knife. He butters his bread, sweep sweep, I butter mine, sweep sweep. He takes a slurp of soup, I take a slurp of soup. He sighs, I sigh, he sighs louder, I sigh louder. I can do this all day. But then he leans back in his chair really sneaky and lands me a massive kick under the table so that I can’t help but go Ow!
Everyone stops talking and looks at me, but the rules mean I can’t tell on him so I pretend I banged my elbow. My dad stares for ages at Geraint and in the end he says, What’s the matter, Laddo?
Nothing, Sir, says Geraint.
So, you kick my daughter for nothing? Have I got that right?
And Geraint goes, She copies me, Sir, it’s quite annoying.
My dad keeps staring at him for an awfully long time. Then he says, It’s so annoying, is it, that you have to inflict violence on a small child? How old are you, son? Fourteen? I joined the merchant navy when I wasn’t much older. I’ll tell you what’s annoying – and he leans right across the table and really close to Geraint’s face so that his beard is nearly in his soup – Bullies. They get my back up something chronic.
It all goes very quiet and Aunty Celia takes a really big swig of her tonic water, and another one until it’s all gone, and for the first time ever Geraint goes red.
Carlo, old chap, says Uncle Horace, You know what children are like...
Listen to me, says my dad, and he looks all round the table at us, I’m very glad you’ve offered to mind Enid while I get myself sorted out. But I won’t have her bullied. Never in my lifetime. Has he hit you before, Enid?
I could say, he throws a lot of things and tells me to Fuck off nearly every day, but Geraint is giving me the Look of Death, so I go, No. He’s just a pansy.
And then everyone is in hysterics. I don’t know what a pansy is, except that Geraint calls Les and Woody pansies when they are on Top of the Pops because he really hates them.
I see she’s picked up some interesting language while she’s been here, n’all, says my dad, and Aunty Celia gets up and holds her glass in the air and goes, Little top-up, anyone?
*
If I hold on hard enough, he won’t be able to go and he will miss his train.
Enid, my girl, he says, and he’s pulling at my fingers, It won’t be long now.
Every time he pulls off one finger I put another one back. I can last a long time doing this and he knows it.
As soon as the roof is fixed, you’ll be able to come home.
Have they got the aeroplane out of it now? I ask, getting a grip with my other hand.
They have, darling, but the hole needs fixing yet.
Why can’t I sleep in Mrs Mickey’s shed with you? We could make me a bunk bed with some wood or I could sleep in the deckchair.
I’ve told you, there’s no room. And there’s rats n’all. Can’t have my only girl bitten by vermin, he says – and his eyes go daggers at Geraint – I’d have to twist their necks, wouldn’t I? And that would upset the Vermin Authorities. You’ll just have to be patient, my lovely. We’ll be back together before Christmas, I promise.
Uncle Horace is giving him a lift to the station but I can’t go on account of being sick, even though I wasn’t sick last time when I ate the fruit sweets. We’re all standing on the drive and Uncle Horace is swinging his keys round on his finger and looking very interested at the hole in the bush.
Hold on, mate, says my dad, and he gets my grip off his trouser leg and goes to the bush.
What happened here? he says, and Uncle Horace shakes his head.
Gypsies, apparently, he says, Trying to break in. Probably saw the Rover on the drive.
Not being funny like, says my dad, But why didn’t they just come over the gate? Or walk through it?
Uncle Horace gives his keys a swing and says, Ready, old boy? and Aunty Celia runs out of the house with her legs all over the place and gives my dad a huge kiss on his face which he thinks is hysterical. I know because he’s looking at me over her head and giving me the waggly eyebrows. She’s going, Any time you’d like to visit, Carlo, you just – you just let me know. Any time – until Uncle Horace says, That’s quite enough from the Farewell Party, Celia, if you don’t mind. Why don’t you go and have a little rest?
I w
ave and wave until the car is gone over the top of the hill and I stand around a bit more because I know Aunty Celia will be having a lie down, and that means Geraint will be in the house and on the Warpath.
Fourteen
Geraint’s not in the kitchen or the front room so I suppose he must be in his bedroom having a groan. I’m looking for my mother’s book but it’s gone from the table. My recorder and my gun and the boots and the hat and the encyclopaedia are still there, so it’s not Aunty Celia tidying them away like she always does with my stuff. I have my craze feeling coming over me, so I march up to Geraint’s bedroom and I don’t even wait to hear if he’s having a groan, I just go straight in. He’s lying on his bed and he’s reading my mother’s book. He looks at me over the top of it and does a little cough and he goes,
First day – that’s the title, by the way.
Here, see how the child sleeps!
We must move silent to the stars
We must listen for the rising moon,
Blah blah blah, blah blah,
Her skin on mine will be a dawning – My Gord.
Then he does a funny thing with his mouth and he goes, it doesn’t even rhyme! What a crock of crap! And he throws it right at me. I don’t even duck, because I am totally crazed now. The corner gets me on my head but I don’t feel it one bit because I am killing Geraint on his bed. I’m smashing his face with my fists and he’s laughing for a second and then he’s going Stop! Stop! But he’s still laughing so I won’t stop killing him. Then he gets both my arms and grabs them so I can’t reach his face but I’ll just kick him to pieces instead but he looks at me and he goes, Oh, shit!
Then I see all the blood all over everything where my head has burst.
Get this cleaned up at once!
Aunty Celia is standing in the doorway with her hair a mess, and she looks deadly at us and Geraint says, Mum, I think Enid has cut herself, but she says, I don’t give a bloody damn what Enid has done. Get this pigsty sorted, and she goes zigzag down the corridor and slams her door.
The Tip of My Tongue Page 6
