by Anne Donovan
Aye.
She motioned us intae a corner away from the nurses’ station. Jas waited at a slight distance.
How old are you Fiona?
Seventeen.
And your mother is dead?
A year and … four month ago.
I’m sorry. Look, your father is fine – pretty frail and weepy but no real harm done after last night.
That’s good.
But I’m a bit concerned about his general condition. Seems very thin, run down, not very … she looked awkward … not looking after himself.
My face flamed. He’s just given up.
I know this is very hard for you. Is he drinking too much?
I nodded.
Since your mother’s death?
Aye.
Have you spoken to him?
No.
Is there anyone in the family he’d listen to?
Dunno. My Auntie Janice mibbe.
Look, I’d like to refer him to counselling – see if we can give him some help with the underlying problems. I’ve given him a letter for his GP. Of course maybe, just maybe, this terrible thing could be a blessing in disguise. A wake up call for him. Make him realise how close he came to hurting his family.
She took my arm. We also have support services for young people. For you.
I shook my heid. I’m fine.
Da had tae sleep on the settee in the living room at Janice’s. The next morning was mental, all of us trying tae find time in the bathroom. Janice was amazing, but.
I’m timing yous all in the bathroom – less than five minutes you get a chocolate croissant for breakfast, any longer and it’s porridge instead.
Angie made a face. And you seriously don’t want to taste Jan’s porridge.
The threat of porridge meant that even the twins managed to get out in time but we were still falling over each other, and during the next few weeks I started tae spend mair time at Jas’s. We were in the final rundown to the exams – we had to get portfolios and dissertations completed and sent away and I couldnae work at Janice’s. On the nights Jas wasnae at the shop, we’d go to the library after school to study then heid round to his about six. Their flat was always like a furnace; Jas’s ma loved to have the heating and fires turned up high. Jas and she would always go through the same routine.
Jaswinder, shut the door, don’t let in the cold fae the close.
Ma, it’s tropical in here.
I’ve been cooking.
It must be a hundred degrees.
It’s a cold night outside.
Have you never heard of global warming?
I loved going intae their kitchen after the chill of the under-heated library. The smell of home-cooked food, the radio tuned to the Asian music station and Jas’s ma, pinny over her sari and woolly jumper.
Now you sit down, Fiona. You must be starving after all that homework.
I liked being there, just the three of us. After the first couple of times I began tae relax in her presence; that feeling of being at hame, of being at one with Jas, started tae happen when the three of us were thegether, as if Jas’s ma was an extension of us. There was a softness in the way they looked at each other, the affection they showed. He’d put his haund on her shoulder when she stood at the sink, or she’d caress the back of his airm when she got up fae her seat and it wasnae obvious or precious in any way, just ordinary. She was never possessive, seemed really happy that Jas and me were thegether, treated me almost like a daughter, but there was a bond between them that was just there, necessary. Sitting in the warmth of the kitchen with Jas and his ma, the atmosphere was so dreamlike, I’d almost forgotten the reality of my life, so when I opened Janice’s door to find angry voices coming fae the living room it took me a minute tae come to.
Da was slumped in an armchair, that hang-dog helpless expression I couldnae bear plastered across his face. I’d only ever seen it once or twice when Mammy was alive but since her death it had become mair characteristic of him than anything else. Janice held a bit of official-looking paper in her haund. She looked round when I came in, pressed her lips thegether as if stopping herself from speaking.
Angie got up fae her seat. Hi Fiona, she said. I’ll just go and check on Evie.
When she’d left, Janice turned to my da and said, Do you want to explain this to Fiona yourself?
He looked across at me without meeting my eyes, then shook his heid.
What is it?
Let’s sit down. Janice put her airm round me and we sat on the settee opposite my da.
I’ve been trying to help your da get the flat sorted out, but when I contacted the insurance company it turns out he’s let the policy lapse.
How d’you mean?
He stopped paying the policy a couple of month after your mammy died.
There’s no insurance?
Janice shook her heid.
I sat for a minute, letting her words sink in, trying tae work out what this would mean.
So … we won’t get back the stuff that got burned – the furniture and all that?
I didnae care about the furniture and anyway, I knew we’d get by somehow.
Worse. It’s not just the contents policy – there’s no buildings insurance either. No money to restore the building. She paused.
I still didnae get it. In my heid I was imagining Jas and Patrick helping out, Da getting his pals round tae fix up the woodwork and the rewiring and the plastering and all that stuff – they’d know enough guys could dae favours and we’d all pull thegether. There was the prize money too – we could use that tae replace the basics and anyhow, Janice wouldnae let things fall apart.
You won’t be able to go hame.
That’s when it hit me. The flat where we’d all been brought up wasnae just a building that could be done up again, it was hame. The love that had been put intae it had made it hame, Mammy’d made it hame, and since she’d been gone it wasnae hame any mair. And it never would be again.
Something inside me shattered intae a million icy jaggy glass shards and exploded out ontae that broken man sitting there.
How could you? Mammy would never of let this happen. If you’d died she’d of managed, she’d never of sat there wallowing in self-pity like you, drinking yoursel intae a stupor, letting the bloody hoose go on fire. You’re useless, naw, you’re worse than useless.
I suppose it was bound tae have come out sooner or later but I wish it hadnae.
I wish it was you that died. I wish you were deid. Janice tried tae hold me back as I ran out the room but I was that blind with rage and grief nothing would of stopped me.
I started tae run, at first in a heidlong rush then gradually my pace settled tae a jog. I was a good runner, no much of a sprinter but steady at middle and long distances, and it was great tae sense the night air nip my cheeks, feel my heart pound and the blood surge round my body. Helped tae block out the mad jumble of thoughts in my heid. At first I just ran, taking streets at random. Naebody paid me any attention; it was only about eight o’clock and I probably looked like a real jogger in my hoodie and trainers. Then I found mysel slowing doon, thinking about my direction. I wanted tae go back to Jas’s, to that warmth and homeliness, but I couldnae – I knew where I was heided, though as I got nearer the dread rose in me.
Fae the outside of the building, in the dark, there wasnae much difference. Our windaes were smeared and manky but the lights were on in other flats. I imagined the Flanagans, clocked in fronty the telly wi cups a tea, Jean and Betty knitting away and Suzy on the first flair getting her baby tae bed. The students had nae curtains in their living room and one of them was at the windae, talking on his mobile. I felt sick inside. We’d never be able tae live there again, I’d never make the dinner in the kitchen, sleep in my bedroom.
I fumbled in my pocket and pulled out the keys, walked across the road and let mysel in the close. Even though it had been cleaned, a sooty smell lingered under the lemony disinfectant, and it got worse as I went up the stai
r. When I reached the landing, the sight of our front door, all padlocked up, hit me. I’d thought I’d be able tae go inside, somehow it seemed that important tae walk through the rooms. But the Fire Brigade or the Polis or someone must have secured the place for safety. I turned and walked back doon the stair, paused a moment afore letting mysel out intae the back court. There was a real nip in the air and the heat I’d built up while I was running through the streets had evaporated, but I made my way to the corner beside the shaughly auld wall, under the bare tree, and sat doon so I wouldnae be seen fae the houses.
All around, as far as I could see, were the backs of tenements, lurking under a moonless sky. A web of windaes crisscrossed their shadowy presence, hundreds of lives mapped out in this wee area. Every now and again I’d see someone come tae their kitchen sink to fill a kettle or draw their bedroom curtain, mibbe looking out for a second intae the blank dark. And above me were the deid windaes of the house that was no longer my hame.
I ENDED UP at Jas’s. After sitting in the back court till I was frozen I started tae walk aimlessly, but by now it was late and it didnae feel good to be out by mysel. I couldnae face gaun back to Janice’s so I went to the only place that felt like hame to me.
Jas’s ma said nothing that night, lent me a tent of a nightie and produced a box of new toothbrushes.
Is this stock for the shop? I asked.
No dear, I just like to be prepared in case of any unexpected visitors.
Jas laughed. In case an unexpected busload of tourists arrive.
So cheeky, this boy of mine. She ruffled his hair. The other, of course, hardly ever speaks. She opened a drawer, handed me two orange towels. You’ll meet him soon, Fiona – he’s coming next week.
Maybe next week, said Jas. Maybe the week after or the week after that.
That’s another difference, Fiona. One is reliable, the other as vague as a cloud. But you’re tired, dear. Go to bed.
Next day Patrick flew up fae London. As usual, he and Janice took charge, Patrick dealing wi the building society about the repossession, and Janice managing to get the council to rehouse us. Except I wasnae gonnae go with them.
I didnae want to think about where I would live. Mrs Kaur was kind and never pressed me to leave, but I knew I couldnae stay there forever. But right noo, I could hardly bear to be in the same room as my da.
I tried. A few days later Patrick came round and took me tae Janice’s. They wanted tae include me in the discussions about what had to be done, but I sat on the other side of the room fae my da like a hedgehog, curled in a ball of hate, prickling every time he opened his mouth or looked in my direction. Every move he made grated on me; the way he pulled on his left ear when he was listening to what was said, the whiny tone of his voice as he sat glued to the chair and never even got up to make a cup of tea.
That night when I got back, Mrs Kaur put her airms round me, spoke gently.
I know it’s hard to forgive, but it’s sweet too. Just take it in baby steps, dear. The smell of the oil she put on her hair, the softness of her cheek, made me want to say, yes, yes, I will, but I couldnae.
Da and the twins flitted tae the new house the following week and I moved back wi Janice and Angie, sharing Evie’s room wi its Winnie the Pooh mural.
Are you gonnae sleep in the bump beds with me, Auntie Fiona?
Sure. It’ll be fun.
When I’m five I’m gonnae sleep in the top bump.
Are you?
Janice held out sheets and a downie cover. She’s desperate to sleep in the top bunk but I don’t feel safe with her up there yet – d’you mind, Fiona?
I took the sheets. I’d sleep on the flair, anywhere.
It won’t come to that.
I started to make up the bed. Evie skipped around me.
When I’m five and I sleep on the top bump my baby sister will sleep under me.
Will she?
Janice turned fae the drawer she was emptying. Mibbe not right away, pet. Babies sleep in a cot first.
I looked at her. Janice, are you … having another baby?
I’m not pregnant, yet. But we’re thinking about it. I mean we definitely want another, it’s just a question of when. I want to save up a bit more before I have to take time off work. She hunkered doon to Evie, rubbed noses with her. But I cannae promise it’ll be a sister.
That afternoon Jas and me took Evie out for a walk. At the swing park she insisted on going on the big chute which was far too high for her so Jas held her in his lap and went doon too. See – you’ve got your own racing car.
When she teamed up with another wee one on the seesaw, we sat on a bench and watched her giggling away as she went up and doon, rhythmically.
Jas took my haund. How you?
Dunno. I feel awful. Everybody’s being dead kind. Your ma, Janice. If I could just get my act thegether and stop feeling like this about Da, it’d be cool.
It’ll take time. Families are like that.
Yours isnae.
Sometimes it is.
You and your ma get on better than anybody I’ve ever known.
That’s just luck, how we are. The way our personalities work.
Me and Patrick are a bit like that.
But me and my da rubbed each other up the wrong way a lot. And Amrik and me are total chalk and cheese. You just learn to live with it. Family is kind of … sacred.
A few days later Janice was washing up at the sink while I sat at the table. Evie came rushing in the room and Janice hauf-turned; her face, as the light hit it at that angle, was Mammy’s. Lying in bed that night I couldnae sleep, tossed and turned in the bunk bed above Evie, thinking about Janice getting pregnant again. They said that what happened tae Mammy was a fluke, one in a million, but I was scared. Janice would be forty next year. She looked younger and was dead fit, but then so was my mammy. When I closed my eyes all I seen was the radiance of that face, the one that was both Mammy’s and Janice’s, expecting, hoping for the future, then dissolving intae nothing.
Somewhere in the middle of this stuff, my eighteenth birthday came and went. Janice wanted us all to go out for a meal, but the way things were it didnae seem that great an idea. Instead I went out with Jas, who gied me a box wrapped in white tissue paper.
Got it in Haworth, he said. I’ve been saving it till now.
It was a glass paperweight with a profile of Emily trapped inside it.
It’s lovely. I held it in the palm of my haund, felt its heaviness.
* * *
The letters arrived the next week, forwarded to Janice’s house. I took them to school to let Jas see them. I found him in the library, folders and books spread out in fronty him, placed three envelopes on top of the pile.
That one first – it’s the least interesting. It said my piece hadnae got anywhere in the national finals of the competition.
Shame, said Jas.
Ach, I never expected it.
He read the others; one offering me a place at uni and one at Art School.
Cool. He handed them back. Have you decided what you’re gonnae do?
Art School. I sat doon in the chair next to his. It’s weird – for years I’ve wanted to study literature at uni, but somehow, when I read they magic words I’d always dreamed of, it just didnae feel the same. Then I opened this one and it said you’ve been offered a place at Art School and it was just, this is it. This is right.
That’s what you have to go by, that feeling.
I turned tae him. What about you, Jas?
How d’you mean? I’m all settled, accepted my place last year.
You wouldnae think of changing – I mean, is this what you really want or is it because your family wants you to study pharmacy?
Fiona, if I said to Ma I’ve changed my mind, I really want to study literature or go to Art School she’d support me. But I don’t.
He replaced the letters in their envelopes. Do you want me to stay in Glasgow, is that it? It might be possible to change unis next year
.
It’s no that. Jas, I know you love Shelley mair than anything, and there’s your photography. You said you don’t have that passion for Chemistry that you dae for Art and books and all that.
Pharmacy will give me the life I want, Fiona. It feels right.
The librarian glared at us fae behind her glass screen and we shut up. I opened my books and pretended to read. Still didnae get it but. Jas always had clear ideas about things, had principles. He’d never get sucked intae studying the wrang course out of loyalty. But I couldnae see why he was so keen on pharmacy except that it suited his family. And I couldnae understaund what he meant about it giving him the life he wanted. Sure it was steady and a good job and that. But Jas wasnae materialistic. He didnae want a fast car or fancy holidays. I wished we’d talked mair then about what kind of life he did want, about the future. I assumed I was part of his plan whatever that was but, like sex, it was something we never discussed. Mibbe if we had things might of been different. Naa, I don’t believe that. Probably it would of only made what happened next even worse.
AMRIK WAS A fallen angel. Taller and thinner than Jas, his hair tummled past his shoulders in lank curls; he was only twenty-five but the lines round his mouth and eyes were deep. Oh but those eyes – earth-brown with flecks of gold, eyes to drown in. He was draped over a chair in the kitchen, long legs stretched out in front of the gas fire. Jas’s ma placed a cup on the table by his side and tapped his thigh as she squeezed past him.
Watch you don’t trip over these big legs, Fiona – always in the way. Amrik, this is Fiona, Jaswinder’s girlfriend.
His haund moved vaguely in my direction. Hi.
Hi.
Sit down, dear. I’ll get you some tea. Jaswinder will be back in a moment – he just went out for a message.
I sat in the chair opposite Amrik. He held the mug in his haund, sipped the tea. I noticed that the tips of his long thin fingers were calloused and the fingernail of his right pinkie was longer than the others. He said nothing and, though I rummled around in my heid for small talk, I found mysel unable to speak.
