Buddha Da (12 page)

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Authors: Anne Donovan

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BOOK: Buddha Da
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‘Ah know it was daft but ah can always change it if it is a boy. It’s just ah’ve always wanted the chance tae dress up a wee lassie. There’s some lovely things for girls. And boys get that manky playin football and rollin around in the dirt, it’s no worth buyin them anythin nice anyway.’

‘Anne Marie plays football.’

‘Ah know.’

‘No all girls are like that – she’d of had a fit if ah’d tried tae put her in a frilly frock.’

‘Aye, but, you never really encouraged her tae be … feminine.’

Ah couldnae believe ah was hearin this.

‘Pardon?’

‘Ah’m no criticisin you or anythin. Ah’m just sayin.’

The waitress arrived at the table.

‘Soup?’

‘That’s me.’

‘Prawns?’

‘Thanks.’

   

It was later, at ma desk, that it hit me just how mad ah was at Tricia. Anne Marie no bein feminine. Just as well ah was too polite tae say anythin aboot how she brung up her boys – Shaun and Gerry are cheeky wee brats. Boys will be boys, she says. When wee Drew, the youngest, was two, he took a fancy tae wanny Anne Marie’s dolls and took it hame wi him – Tricia took it aff him. Boys don’t have dolls. And the wee soul grat his eyes oot, asked Santa for wan at Christmas and she bought him a Celtic strip.

Ah looked oot the windae. Another grey day, a drizzle of fine rain that seeped through yer bones. Who was ah kiddin? What difference was it tae me how Tricia brung up her weans? It was the thought of the new wan growin inside her that was gettin tae me. And the thought that, the way things were between me and Jimmy, what chance was there for me tae have another wean?

   

Friday, 17th December. The big night. She’s a lovely wee singer, Anne Marie, always has been, and she was over the moon aboot this concert. Rehearsin every day at lunchtime, practisin her bit in the bathroom, the bedroom: ah wis gettin
fed up listenin tae the flamin songs if truth be told. She’d gone aff tae the school early tae meet her pals and ah wis waitin on Jimmy gettin back so’s we could go thegether. Mammy had been desperate tae go but she just wasnae up tae it.

Anne Marie and me had wer tea early but ah’d left him some veggie lasagne that could just go in the microwave while he wis in the shower. Ah’d laid oot his clothes on the bed for him as well. If you want Jimmy tae get anywhere on time you have tae think it all oot in advance.

He strolled in at quarter past six and dumped his bag in the hall.

‘Jump in the shower the now, Jimmy. Your tea’s ready and your clothes are on the bed. You’d better get a move on.’

‘There’s nae rush hen, plenty time.’ He bent doon and started unlacin his work boots, big black yins, splattered wi paint.

‘Look, Jimmy, it starts at hauf-seven and ah don’t want tae be late.’

‘You just go on, hen, it’s OK, ah’ll get sorted masel. Ah don’t need tae be there tae eight o’clock.’

‘Whit the hell are you talkin aboot? It’s hauf-seven the concert starts.’

He straightened up.

‘Ah’m no gaun tae the concert.’

‘Pardon?’

‘The night’s the talk by Lama Thonden, know the high heid yin? He’s ower fae America the now.’

‘Jimmy, ah don’t believe ah’m hearin this.’

‘But ah tellt you aboot it ages ago. He’s like, the maist important lama that’s ever been tae the Centre, he founded
this big retreat place in California when he’d tae flee fae Tibet, he’s like the Dalai Lama’s best pal.’

Ah stood there, the lasagne dish in ma haund. It wis all ah could dae no tae chuck it at him.

‘Hen, he’s an enlightened bein.’

Somethin inside me shrivelled and ah felt very quiet and very cold.

‘And Anne Marie’s your daughter.’

He came ower tae me, startit tae try tae pit his airms roond me.

‘Don’t …’

‘Hen …’

‘Touch me.’

Ah took a step backwards.

‘And don’t call me hen!’

   

Ah couldnae remember ever bein so flamin mad. Ah sat in the front row, payin nae attention tae anyone. The first hauf was the orchestra and all around me parents were smilin and nudgin wan another when their wean got up tae play a solo, but ah sat stony-faced all through it. At the tea break ah stayed in ma seat. Didnae want tae go through tae get a cuppa tea in case ah met anybody ah knew – didnae know what tae say.

Thon man. Ah couldnae get over just how selfish and self-centred he was. Him and his bloody Buddhism. Sittin there night efter night gazin at his navel and no seein anythin that was gaun on round aboot him. Him and his clarity. Clarity! If he’d open his eyes he might have some clarity. Rips up his brother’s tape of his fortieth birthday party just cos he doesnae want there tae be a record of him lookin like an eejit. Decides tae be a vegetarian. Who is it has tae look
up recipe books and make two different dinners every night? Then he decides he’s gonnae be celibate so ah have tae be as well. But ah could of put up wi all that because of Anne Marie. Because the bottom line is, he’s her daddy and she adores him. And he’s always been a good daddy. But how am ah gonnae explain tae her that her daddy’s no come tae her concert cause he’s too busy seein a flamin lama.

Efter the tea break they all filed in again. The second hauf was
Joseph and the Amazin Technicolour Dreamcoat
. Up went the curtain and in ran a dozen kids all wearin black troosers and different coloured tee shirts, supposed tae be all the colours of Joseph’s coat. Anne Marie was nearest the left of the stage, wearin a red wan, and her pal, Nisha was next tae her in yella. The music teacher, a young wumman wi red hair, sat at the piano and when she nodded her heid they began the first song. Ah must of heard it a million times in the hoose but it sounded that fresh and alive when the youngsters all sang thegether. When it got tae the bit where they list all the colours, each wean had tae step forward in turn. Anne Marie was first, steppin right on time when they sang ‘red’.

It was a fantastic show. They didnae have that much in the way of scenery and no every wean was brilliant of course – in fact the boy that played Joseph didnae have that great a voice, but they really put everythin intae it. Aboot haufway through the show came Anne Marie’s solo bit, ‘Any Dream Will Do’. It’s really meant tae be Joseph’s solo, but every time he sings a line, there’s a wee kind of echo, repeatin his words and then daein ‘ah-ah-ah’ in harmony, and that was Anne Marie’s part. The boy was in the centre while she stood ower tae the side, in a pink spotlight. And ah know she’s ma daughter and ah’m biased but it was wonderful. No just her voice; there’s a difference between bein able tae sing in the
bath and staundin up in fronty folk tae dae a solo. She was that confident, givin it her hert and soul. Beautiful. Pure. As ah watched her ah felt ma eyes start tae prick wi tears. Her daddy should be here. She was his double; the way she looked, the way she stood there, minded me of when he used tae sing in the band when we were young. No they kind of songs of course, but the way he used tae gie it everythin he’d got, nae matter if there was five folk there or a hallful. Her daddy’s girl. Natural, ah suppose, but ah wisht we’d had a boy too, mibbe he’d of been like me.

And at the back of ma mind ah kept thinkin what ah was gonnae say tae her. At first ah’d been that mad ah was gonnae tell her her daddy didnae care enough tae come and see her, but when it came tae the bit, ah knew ah couldnae. When the show was over and they all came fae behind the stage, laughin and excited, ah wanted tae hug her but ah thought she’d get embarrassed in fronty her pals.

‘That was brilliant, hen, absolutely brilliant.’

‘Was ah OK?’

‘You were fantastic.’

The music teacher was beside us. ‘Are you Anne Marie’s mum?’

‘Aye.’

‘She’s so talented. And she’s worked so hard on her part.’

‘Aye, she’s been practisin in the house.’

‘She’s a real star.’

She turned tae speak tae someone else and Anne Marie said, ‘Where’s ma daddy?’

‘He’d tae go aff early, hen – he’d tae go tae a meetin and nipped oot just afore the end. Said tae tell you it was brilliant and he’d see you later.’

* * *

Actually it was efter twelve when he got hame. Ah’d almost given up on him and was aboot tae go tae ma bed when ah heard his key in the door. When he came intae the livin room, his face was aw lit up.

‘That was amazin, that was incredible. Ah wish yous’d been there.’

‘Oh?’

‘The lama … he done a ceremony and special prayers and … look.’

He held oot his haund. In his palm there was a piece of white ribbon tied in a knot and inside the knot was somethin else ah couldnae make oot.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, he blessed it and you’ve tae keep it in a sacred place, then every day take it oot and say these prayers, special wans, it’s two hunner times a day, ah think – ah’ve got it wrote doon. And it’s the way tae enlightenment.’

‘And this, this tied in the ribbon, what is it?’

‘It’s a pea. He said if …’

‘Haud on a minute, did you just say a pea?’

‘Aye.’

‘An ordinary pea?’

‘Well, it’s no ordinary, it’s been blessed by …’

‘Jimmy, have you completely flipped? You don’t have time tae see your daughter appearin in the school concert – miss wanny the maist important days in her life …’

‘Liz, it’s …’

‘… tae go and see this wonderful lama who’s an enlightened being and is gonnae unlock all the secrets of the universe tae yous special people who sit on yer arses every night wi yer eyes closed while we unenlightened beins
dae unimportant things like dae a washin or make a dinner or iron yer claes …’

‘Liz …’

‘Naw, Jimmy, hear me oot. Anyway, you come hame fae this wonderful session and you show me the secret of enlightenment. There it is in yer haund – a pea. A fuckin pea, for God’s sake.’

‘It’s no that, it’s symbolic, it’s tae remind you …’

‘Tae remind you of what, Jimmy? Yer duty tae yer faimly? The fact that the resty us have got lives as well as you. Know whit it reminds me of, Jimmy … your brain!’

‘Ah don’t know whit tae say.’

‘There’s nothin you could say that ah want tae hear.’

   

That night Jimmy slept in the spare room for the first time. Though if he was anythin like me he didnae sleep much. All night ah kept wakin, just on the edge of a dream that ah couldnae quite remember. There was crowds round me, everyone was taller than me, and ah felt as if ah was gonnae get crushed. Then ah’d lie awake for a while and doze aff again, and it would be the same dream, the same feelin of bein suffocated by all these bodies. Next mornin ah got up early but he was already in the kitchen, sittin havin a cuppa tea. He looked up at me, waitin for me tae start, ah suppose, but ah didnae feel angry any mair, just drained, weary tae ma bones.

‘D’you want one?’

‘Aye.’

When he got up tae put the kettle on ah sat doon at the table and lit a fag. Ah was smokin mair these days. When ah’d started again ah just had the odd wan wi a coffee or a drink, but this was quarter tae seven on a Saturday mornin.
Wasnae even enjoyin it. A sickish feelin in ma throat – made the tea taste sour.

‘Ah’ll need tae gie up for the New Year.’

‘The millennium.’

‘Aye.’

‘Haveny thought aboot ma New Year’s resolution yet.’ He turned his empty mug round in his haund.

‘You’ve no got much left tae gie up. Nae meat, nae drink, nae nookie.’

He looked at me.

‘Liz, ah’m sorry.’

Ah sooked in the smoke. ‘Jimmy, ah don’t want tae talk aboot it the noo, OK. Ah cannae think straight. But please, don’t let on tae Anne Marie you werenae there last night. Ah tellt her you’d seen her but had tae nip oot just afore the end tae go tae a meetin.’

‘Thanks. Ah’ll tell her she was brilliant.’

‘She was brilliant. Really. You should of heard the applause efter her solo.’

‘“Any Dream Will Do”.’

‘Aye. It was her song – ah mean the boy done the main part but it was all they wee harmonies that brung it tae life – she was fantastic.’

‘Ah’m ur sorry ah wisnae there. Really.’

‘Let’s just leave it the noo, OK?’

‘Aye.’

‘There’s that much tae be done – ah’ve never been this behind at Christmas. See this millennium stuff. All the things on the computer need tae be backed up at work and that’s taken ages. Ah’ll need tae back up all the files for the business too.’

‘Is it no just a lot of hype, aw this stuff?’

‘Probably. But if you wake up on New Year’s Day and there’s nae records of yer tax and yer bills and who owes you what …’

‘Aye. Better safe than sorry.’

‘In fact, since ah’m up early ah’ll mibbe go and dae some the now.’

Ah sat in the spare room backin the files ontae floppy disks. It was that mechanical, ah could of done it in ma sleep. It probably was a lot of hype aboot the millennium, right enough, but it had tae be done. The whole thing was a lot of hype anyway, all these businesses lookin tae make money oot of folk daft enough tae pay ten times as much for a holiday than what it would usually cost. Just as well Jesus had rose fae the deid or he’d be birlin in his grave. But the New Year was special, always had been. Every year ma mammy’d redd oot the hoose and clean it fae top tae bottom afore the bells. That was another thing. Wi her no bein well ah’d need tae clean her hoose as well as ma ain. Ah felt exhausted just thinkin aboot it. Christmas shoppin, the Christmas dinner, then as soon as that was done, get organised for the New Year – thank God it was Tricia’s turn tae have everyone round. Every year we took it in turns tae have the families round for the bells, and ah couldnae of faced that on tap of everythin else.

Ah stopped copyin the files, looked round the room. The bed that Jimmy’d slept in was unmade, the sheets wrinkled, quilt curled up in a ball. Ah’d need tae make it afore Anne Marie realised Jimmy hadnae slept in oor bed last night. But when ah lifted the quilt, insteidy sortin it, ah climbed in and cooried inside it, feelin ma body soften and relax in the warmth.

When ah woke up Anne Marie was at ma elbow.

‘Ah thought you’d gone oot – couldnae work oot where you were. What were you sleepin in here for?’

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