Read Buddha Da Online

Authors: Anne Donovan

Tags: #Scotland

Buddha Da (26 page)

BOOK: Buddha Da
5.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Used tae spend a lot of time wi Anne Marie here, though. Somewhere tae go when it was rainin, somewhere tae come wi a buggy and sit for a while when she was asleep. That’s all ahead of me again. Another life.

Ah could hear voices comin closer but couldnae see anyone. A guided tour; posh voice, cairryin loud through the place, ringin oot. ‘Now, can anyone tell me the dates when dinosaurs roamed the earth?’ Another voice, quieter, couldnae make oot the words. Then her voice again. ‘Spot on!’

Must be weans gettin shown round. On and on aboot whit the earth was like when there was nae people, nae plants. Loud and clear, a voice that demanded you listened tae it, you couldnae tune it oot. Confident, they voices, they English voices. Mibbe she wasnae English right enough. Loads of times you thought they were English and they turned oot tae be Scottish but went tae private schools.

Ah got up and walked past where she was staundin wi a crowd of teenagers, Spanish-lookin they were. A wee wumman, dead plain wi black hair cut straight across her forehead, and that voice, clear and harsh as a diamond. ‘Sustainable. Sustainable means capable of lasting for …’ Almost a falter, almost as if she was thinkin it oot, as if she didnae have it all pat. ‘Forever.’

Is that what sustainable meant? If you sustained somethin
did that mean it was gonnae last forever? What aboot flowers, plants – did sustainable mean forever or did it just mean for as long as was natural? What aboot me and David? Were we sustainable? Could we last? Were we gonnae make it thegether for this new life growin inside me?

   

Ah opened the door of his room, stopped and looked round.

‘You’ve been busy.’

All the rubbish that had been lyin round had been cleared up. The books and papers on top of his desk were in neat piles and the door of the wardrobe, that usually lay swingin open, was shut.

‘Jeezo, you’ve even made the bed.’ Ah sat doon on it. ‘Are you sure it’s no you that’s pregnant?’

‘Mibbe ma hormones are comin oot in sympathy. Want a glass a wine? Or mineral water?’

‘Water, please.’

He’d laid oot two glasses, a bottle of wine and wan of mineral water on a coffee table that used tae lie in a corner buried in junk.

He sat across fae me on the armchair.

‘So what’s brought this on?’ ah said.

‘Dunno. Efter you tellt me yesterday, ah just found masel tidyin up. Usually when ah’m in here on ma ain ah’m workin or listenin tae music but ah couldnae settle tae anythin. Never meant tae clear up, just found masel daein it, and wanst ah’d started …’

‘Ah’ve started so ah’ll finish.’

‘Sumpn like that. Cannae imagine me keepin it like this, right enough.’

It felt funny sittin opposite him like this. Usually we were
lyin doon or sittin on the bed. Usually there was naewhere else tae sit.

‘Liz, ah’ve been thinkin things over – actually ah’ve been thinkin of nothin else, and … well, ah just don’t know whit tae say. You know ah really like you, and if we’d time tae see how things developed … ah mean it could of worked oot.’

‘So you’re sayin they cannae work oot noo.’

‘Naw, ah’m no sayin that, mibbe they could, ah mean there’s whit – seven month tae go – a lot could happen in seven month.’

‘A lot will happen in seven month.’

‘You know what ah mean … between us, the way our relationship could develop.’

Ah sipped the mineral water. It was cauld, oot the fridge.

‘Look, what ah think ah’m sayin is ah still don’t know, and cannae promise anythin, but ah don’t want tae run away.’

‘So, what are we gonnae dae then?’

‘Well, ah thought mibbe we could go tae counsellin thegether.’

‘Counsellin?’

‘Aye, ah mean whatever happens it would help us tae come tae terms wi it, help us explore our options.’

‘And what d’you think our options are, David?’

‘Well, if we’re gonnae live thegether, whether we should live apart and share parentin …’

‘Ah don’t think that sharin parentin is an optionexactly … you’ve already shared that bit.’

‘Ah cannae believe you’re bein sarcastic aboot this. Ah’m tryin tae take responsibility.’

‘Ah’m sorry, ah just cannae take this counsellin and
parentin stuff. In seven and a hauf month ah’m gonnae have a wean. You may have options aboot whether or no you share the parentin – ah don’t. Ah’m its mother.’

He put his wine doon on the table, got up aff the chair and came ower tae me, kneelin in front of me, lookin up at me.

‘Liz, gie’s a break will you. Ah’m tryin.’

‘Ah know you are.’

Ah stroked his hair, pushin it back fae his foreheid, and he buried his face in ma lap. We sat like that for a minute. Then he started tae push ma skirt up wi his heid, the stubble on his chin ticklin ma thighs.

‘Hey, this is nice in here.’

He looked up, then went back under, pullin doon ma knickers, lickin round ma hair, his tongue slitherin inside. Then ah moved aff the bed on tae the flair and we done it there, me on ma back and the carpet rough on ma bum, and it was almost like the first time, that fierceness that blocked oot everythin, except it was better cause it went on and on; ah could hear ma voice as if it was an echo far away in the distance, as if it belonged tae someone else.

Efter, we lay on the flair on wer backs, side by side.

‘Well, at least we don’t need tae worry aboot you gettin pregnant that time.’

‘Cats can dae that.’

‘What?’

‘Get pregnant a second time … if they have sex wi different tom cats when they’re on heat they can have a litter wi different faithers.’ Ah moved round on tae ma side. ‘Got any tissues?’

‘Here – use this.’

He took a towel oot the drawer and haunded it tae me. Ah wiped masel dry.

‘Wan disadvantage.’

‘Whit?’

‘Of no usin condoms.’

‘Right. Sorry, ma brain’s fucked the now.’

‘Just yer brain?’ Ah shivered. ‘Is it just ma hormones or is it a bit chilly in here?’

‘Well it’s no exactly warm. Let’s get under the covers and coorie in.’

Lyin there, airms round each other, ah started tae warm up. His heid was buried in ma shoulder and his eyes were closed. ‘David?’

‘Mmm.’

‘Know whit’s really strange aboot all this?’

‘Whit?’

‘Ah cannae believe you tidied this room all up.’

GURPREET’S DOWNIE COVER
was daein ma heid in. A pattern of red and black and grey, all wee circles and squares and squiggly bits. Ah shut ma eyes, tryin tae block it out, but the pattern came back, imprinted on the inside of ma brain. We’d been stuck in here all day yesterday and all day the day, tryin tae get the CD finished. Ah’d thought we were on the last stages and it’d only take a few hours tae get it sorted, but we kept tryin it wan way, then another, changin wee bits till it got tae the point where you could hardly hear the difference.

Nisha and me had been singin ‘
salve
’ back and forward tae each other as if we were talkin.

‘Yeah, that’s it, Anne Marie,’ said Gurpreet.

‘Not that one – the one before.’ Nisha sang a slightly
different note and pointed at me. Ah sang it back. ‘See,’ she said.

‘Still think the first way’s better.’

‘It doesnae matter what you think – it’s our CD. You need tae dae it our way. Anne Marie, what d’you think?’

Ah’d nae idea any mair.

Nisha’s ma poked her heid round the door. ‘Nearly finished?’

‘You’re jokin,’ said Nisha.

‘You need to take a break. I’ve made tea and put a snack out for you in the kitchen.’

Nisha’s ma’s idea of a snack was mair like a three- course meal.

‘Ma, we only had lunch about an hour ago.’

‘You need to keep your strength up.’

Ootside the kitchen windae the sky was heavy. Ma heid was startin tae ache.

Nisha’s ma put mugs of tea on the table. ‘How much longer d’you think you’ll be?’

‘Nae idea,’ said Gurpreet. ‘These two keep changing their minds.’

‘Oh, aye,’ said Nisha. ‘If you’d just do it our way instead of tryin to change it all the time we’d get on a lot faster.’

‘Just giving you the benefit of my experience.’ Gurpreet leaned back in his seat, stretchin his airms behind his heid. He knew it would piss Nisha aff.

Nisha muttered somethin in Punjabi under her breath. Then she grabbed ma airm. ‘Anne Marie, let’s go out for ten minutes. Get some air.’

‘We need tae get on. I’ve a gig the night,’ said Gurpreet.

‘Don’t worry. We’ll be back before you’ve even finished your tea.’

Nisha and me sat on the wee wall at the front of the hoose.

‘Ah just had tae get away from him. He’s drivin me daft.’

‘Makin this CD is drivin me daft. Ah feel as if ma brain’s stopped workin.’

‘Not long to go. It’ll be worth it.’

‘Aye. It’s just, ah never thought this last bit would be the hardest. Ah thought we’d done maist of it already.’

‘Ah know. But we’ve got to get it perfect.’ There was an edge tae Nisha’s voice, almost as if she was annoyed at me as well as Gurpreet, and her haunds were clenched tight intae fists.

‘It’s OK, Nish, we’ll get there. We’ve got time. Thank God it’s the holiday weekend. Two mair days.’

‘Ah know. Although two mair days of this and ah’ll have murdered Gurpreet.’ She took ma airm. ‘Let’s go over tae the swings.’

There was a wee swing park just across fae Nisha’s hoose. Usually it was mobbed on a Saturday but it had been rainin and there was only wan wee boy playin on the baby chute, his ma catchin him at the end. The seats of the swings were still wet.

‘Got a hanky on you, Nish?’

‘Nope. We can stand. Hope Ma’s no lookin out the windae.’

Nisha climbed on tae wanny the swings and stood up on the seat.

‘Gie’s a shove, Anne Marie.’

Ah grabbed the seat and pulled it back as far as ah could, then let it go. Nisha swung backwards and forwards, pushin hersel higher and higher. Ah got on the wan next tae hers
and started tae move, a bit wobbly at first – it’s hard tae push yersel staundin up – then steadier, intae a rhythm; the rush of the air as ah moved forward, the lurch in ma stomach as ah moved back. The sky was heavy and fulla clouds but there was a brightness behind it, that bright ah had tae shut ma eyes for a minute. Ah kept on swinging wi ma eyes shut, just the creak of the metal chains in ma ears, feelin like a bird, free and light.

Ah slowed doon, then sat on the seat, swayin gently, wan foot tappin the ground. There’s a low wall round the swing park and the wee boy was walkin on tap of it, haudin his ma’s haund. At the bottom of the wall was a row of empty cans all set oot as if they were in a shop: at night you can look out of Nisha’s windae and see folk sittin on the benches drinkin, some of the third-years fae our school.

Nisha stated hummin ‘
Salve Regina
’, quietly. Ah looked round at her and she was smilin. She nodded over tae the windae of their hoose. Gurpreet was wavin and pointin tae his watch. She started tae sing, keepin tae the tune, ‘I think it’s ti-ime for us to go and see Gurpreet. If we do-on’t then he will have a flakey.’

‘Amen,’ ah sang.

Airm in airm, we crossed the road and heided inside.

THE BLEEDIN STARTED
on the Sunday efternoon. Don’t know exactly when it started – ah went tae the bathroom and there it was; two red patches on the white of ma knickers, as if ah’d started a period. Ah flushed the toilet and started tae wash ma haunds. Lookin at masel in the mirror ah couldnae see any difference. Ma cheeks were pinker than usual, healthier, and ma eyes were shiny. Ah ran ma wrists under the cauld tap. Mibbe it was nothin, just a bit of spottin like ah’d had wi Anne Marie. It wasnae that heavy.

Ah went back tae the livin room. Anne Marie was round at Nisha’s and ah’d been watchin a daft film on the TV, havin a cuppa tea. It was still sittin, hauf drunk, on the coffee table. Ah picked up the phone, dialled the doctor’s number.

‘The surgery is closed at the moment. Please ring back for appointments between the hours of eight and five-thirty, Monday to Friday. For emergency medical treatment ring 555 0274.’

Ah put doon the phone. Emergency medical treatment. Was ah an emergency? The hospital number was on the wee card they’d gied me when ah went up for a scan.

‘Hello, may I help you?’

‘Ah’m no sure whit tae dae. Ah’m pregnant and ah’ve started bleedin. Ah phoned ma ain doctor but there’s naebody there.’

‘How many weeks?’

‘Six, seven.’

‘Well, you’d better come in and we’ll check you out.’

  

‘It’s OK. The heartbeat’s there, look.’

The wee pulse of light, like a faraway star.

‘You OK?’

‘Ah’m fine.’

The probe kept movin across me, slitherin on the jelly; her eyes fixed tae the screen.

‘Everything seems fine.’ She wiped ma belly dry wi a bit of paper towel.

‘What aboot the bleedin?’

‘Sometimes there’s a bit of spotting early on – it doesn’t mean you’ll lose the baby.’ She turned away and pulled aff her rubber gloves, chucked them in the bin.

‘Doctor, ah had sex yesterday.’

‘Lucky you.’

She came ower and put her haund on ma airm. ‘Sorry, it’s been a long day.’

‘It’s OK.’

‘Look, the bleeding would probably have happened anyway. But maybe it’ll make you feel better if you don’t make love till after thirteen weeks. Just to be sure.’

She studied the records in a beige file. ‘I see from your notes that you’ve had miscarriages before.’

‘Aye, two.’

‘So, I know this is worrying for you but, really, the chances are it’ll be OK this time. Just take it easy for the next six weeks till the first trimester is over.’

‘OK. Thanks.’

She smiled. ‘It’ll be fine, you’ll see.’

   

Sittin in the car in the car park a sick feelin washed over me. Ma face felt hot, even ma ears burned. Ah knew ah’d need tae eat somethin soon but ah couldnae find the energy tae move.

Ah rested ma face against the steerin wheel. The feelin moved up fae the pit of ma stomach again, and at the bottom of it, just underneath, was fear. It’ll be all right, she’d said. Meanin ah’d have the baby OK, no loss it. But was that what ah wanted? When ah seen the blood, what had ah really felt? When ah lay on the couch and she started tae move the probe across ma belly, watchin the wavery images swirl across the screen, what did ah want tae hear her say? What would ah be feelin noo if she’d said, ‘Ah’m sorry …’

When ah’d had they miscarriages afore, ah just wanted tae die masel – ah’ve never felt as bad, especially the second time. Ah wanted this baby, ah’d wanted another baby for as long as ah could remember. Ah kept puttin the feelin away in the back of ma mind but it was always there. And when the test was positive ah was so happy. Ah knew it was nae bed a roses – it was a crazy situation – but through it all
was this feelin that ah was pregnant, a new life was growin inside of me and that was enough, that made it all right.

So how come deep inside there was another part of me that was so scared – it was too hard, too complicated. Ah felt sick and heavy, ah wanted someone tae look efter me. And there was naebody. How come when the bleedin started ah never even phoned David tae see if he’d go tae the hospital wi me … it had never even crossed ma mind. Ah didnae think of him in that way. He was the baby’s faither but ah couldnae see how it would work oot. What would we dae? Where would we stay? And what aboot Anne Marie? Ah wanted another child, but she was ma daughter. Ah had tae think of her too. It was a mess.

   

Ah could hear the TV fae the livin room. Jimmy was sittin on the couch watchin the footie. He turned doon the sound wi the remote when ah walked in.

‘Ah wasnae expectin you.’

‘Just came round tae get ma paint – ah left a wee pot of gold paint here last night – have you seen it?’

‘Aye, it’s in that drawer there.’

‘Couldnae see it for lookin. Ah’ll need it tae finish ma mural.’

‘Oh, aye – Anne Marie was tellin me aboot it. Is she no back yet?’

‘She phoned ten minutes ago tae say she was stayin for her tea, she’ll be back aboot hauf-seven.’

‘Does she want me tae pick her up?’

‘Didnae say.’ He stood up. ‘Want a cuppa tea when ah’m through in the kitchen? You’re lookin a bit … hingy.’

‘Ah’m tired, Jimmy.’

‘Ah’ll put the kettle on.’

Ah got the paint and put it on the coffee table. There was a catalogue sittin oot. Maternity claes and baby stuff. Ah shoved it it on the shelf underneath.

He came back wi two mugs and a packet of chocolate digestives.

‘Thanks.’

He sat doon on the settee beside me. ‘Liz, are you OK? You look … you just don’t look well.’

Ah turned tae look at him. Ah’d no really done that properly for a long time. His hair was damp, pushed away fae his face and there was a faint scent of chlorine aff his skin. He’d been gaun tae the baths maist days since he’d been stayin at the Centre. His face loooked thinner, mair lined, but his eyes looked clearer, younger; Anne Marie’s eyes. Every time ah looked in the mirror these days ah thought ma eyes looked aulder.

‘Ah went tae the hospital the day.’

He set his tea doon, put his airm round me. The smell of chlorine was stronger and it was that strange tae be close tae him, he felt that different fae David, that solid.

‘Liz …’

‘It’s OK, ah’m no ill, it’s no …’

‘Whit?’

‘Ah’m pregnant.’

His airm stayed where it was but felt heavy on ma shoulder, like a bit of wood. Ah kept ma eyes on the mantelpiece, where the haunds on the clock moved round; five, ten, fifteen, twenty seconds. It was about an inch off centre and ah wanted tae get up and move it.

‘Whose is it?’

Each word came oot as if it was by itsel.

‘David. This guy ah’ve been seein.’

Jimmy moved his airm, turned tae look at me. ‘But you never said a word aboot him.’

‘Naw, ah know. Ah meant to …’

‘But …’

‘When … did it happen? When have you been seein him?’

‘Friday nights, mostly.’

‘When ah was here wi Anne Marie?’

‘Aye.’

‘How long has it been gaun on?’

‘Coupla month. It must of happened right at the start.’

‘Christ.’

‘Jimmy, ah’m sorry … ah …’

He stood up. ‘Liz, ah cannae talk right noo. Ah need tae get oot of here, OK?’

‘Aye.’

‘Ah’ll talk tae you the morra, right?’ He took a few steps towards the door, backin away, still facin me.

‘Right. Jimmy … don’t say anythin tae Anne Marie the now, OK?’

‘Aye.’

‘Or anybody else. Please. No the now.’

‘Ah’ll no.’

He opened the livin-room door.

‘Jimmy.’ Ah lifted the tin of paint and held it oot tae him. ‘Don’t forget this.’

He took it oot ma haund, stuck it in the pocket of his jaicket. ‘Thanks.’

BOOK: Buddha Da
5.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

If the Shoe Kills by Lynn Cahoon
Juvenile Delinquent by Richard Deming
The Bewitching Twin by Fletcher, Donna
State of Honour by Gary Haynes
The Fourteen Day Soul Detox by Rita Stradling
The Wolves of London by Mark Morris
Margaret Brownley by A Vision of Lucy