Closed Doors (2 page)

‘Disgusting,’ Ma says to Granny.

Granny nods. ‘I told you. A regular wee hussy,’ spits Granny.

Ma sees to the laundry. I really hate our laundry. It always stinks of cigarettes because Granny and Ma smoke like chimneys. I bet my teachers think I smoke I stink so badly.

‘How many times do I have to tell you, Rosemary? I hate the smell of fags on my shirts. Can you not stop for five minutes, at least while you’re doing the washing?’ snaps Da.

‘Why don’t you do the washing?’ Ma says and flings a vest at him.

‘You’re a couple of fishwives, you know that? You could spend all day in this kitchen smoking and talking shite about folk. It’s a disgrace.’

‘Not all day. She has a job, remember?’ Granny says.

Ma’s a cleaner at my school. When we finish our adding and our writing she comes through the park with her leather handbag and gets to mopping up the mess. It’s a big job because there’s linoleum everywhere, but they have these huge machines with giant brushes to make the floors shiny and the next day when you’re at school you can slide on them like an ice skater.

‘Filthy little buggers they are,’ she tells Granny. ‘The crap I’ve cleaned up in that place, you wouldn’t believe it. And don’t get me started on the teachers’ lounge. Now there’s a shithole for you.’

‘Why? What’s it like?’

‘Fags squashed into teacups if you can believe it,’ says Ma.

‘Dirty bitches,’ says Granny and shakes her head as if she’s been told a million people have died in the yard.

‘And the headmistress . . . let’s just say I know the reason she’s so bloody happy all the time.’ Ma tips her head back and pretends she’s drinking something.

‘No,’ says Granny in astonishment.

‘Yes,’ says Ma.

When Ma’s working, Granny makes the tea. Da hates Granny’s stew. He complains and gags every time she makes it.

‘You try cooking for four on what we’re living on. You’ll eat it and you’ll like it,’ she says.

‘Will I?’ Da growls and puts the fork down. He fetches himself bread and jam instead. I’m not allowed the bread and jam. I have to eat the watery stew.

My granny rolls her eyes when Da gets like this and when he leaves the room she tells me he’s a ‘moaning whining bastard who needs a job’. She shouldn’t say the B-word to me but she does anyway and then she crosses herself to make it all right with God. My da says Granny is a mixer and I’m not to listen to anything she says and since she’s his ma he should know.

They mostly don’t get on, my granny and da. She likes my ma better because they’re women and because my granny doesn’t like how my da has turned out in life, working on building sites and painting folks’ houses. ‘It’s a wee island,’ says Granny. ‘Only so many houses you can build and only so many you can paint.’

‘It’s a developing community,’ says Da.

‘Developing?’ smirks Granny.

Da doesn’t want to fight with her. He just pulls a face and sticks his head in his newspaper. Later he goes to Old Mrs Thompson’s house and paints her front room for thirty pounds.

‘Spend it all on drink he will,’ says Granny, but he doesn’t. He gives it all to my ma and this makes Granny happy and so she gives Da a wink. This makes Da pleased with himself and there is no fighting for a while.

Granny can be tough sometimes but she is a good helper around the house and would lay her life down for her family. This is what Ma says and Da agrees. Granny used to be a nurse but retired to enjoy her life with Grandpa Jake, but then Grandpa Jake died and Granny came to live with us. He had a heart attack and left Da all his money; it wasn’t a lot of money but enough to make Granny hurt. Da said it was for the best because Granny is addicted to catalogues and Woolworths. He said she would have spent the money in a week and we need it for the future. He lets her live with us because she cried so much after Grandpa Jake died and wouldn’t get out of bed.

Ma likes to have her stay with us. They talk all the time and Granny helps her in the house. Ma’s an orphan. Granny told me but Da shook his head when she said this because Ma was a grown woman when her parents died.

‘She’s hardly Oliver Twist,’ says Da.

Ma’s parents died when I was just a baby. Words like
orphan
scare me because it means you have no one. Granny says I’ve not to worry. ‘You’ll always have me in the event of a crisis, Michael.’

Da laughs at this. He says my granny is right and will outlive us all. Ma thinks this isn’t a nice thing to say and gives Da a right dirty look.

‘Can you not take a joke, Rosemary?’

Ma ignores him and lights another cigarette. Da rustles his paper and shakes his head.

‘Would you two just stop?’ snaps Granny. And they do stop, but not in a nice way.

EVERYONE IS PLAYING
Kick the Can. It’s a great game. One team covers the can while the other team hides, then the other team comes out of hiding to try and kick the can without being caught and being sent to jail. The winner is the team who can kick the can without being tagged. It’s my most favourite game in the whole wide world, except on Saturday when I catch Marianne and Paul MacDonald kissing next to Paul’s da’s garden shed with Dirty Alice keeping watch, except she isn’t very good at keeping watch and lets me see. It makes me ill. They were crouching like frogs. Marianne wasn’t even touching him but he was all over her. He had his hand on her shoulders and was right next to her face, while his other hand was holding on to her arm like he thought he might fall over or something. I would never have kissed her like that. I’d have given her a big hug or touched her hair. I hate Paul MacDonald for touching her and I hate Marianne Cameron for letting him near her.

It wasn’t fair and so I go tell Marianne’s da. This causes Marianne’s da to go to Paul’s da to make a big fuss. Paul’s father isn’t even bothered though and keeps nodding and shrugging his shoulders at Marianne’s da, who is very thin and called Skinny Rab. I can’t hear what they are saying but when they start to laugh and stuff I know no one cares Marianne and Paul have been kissing. Marianne hates me now and won’t let me do keepy-uppies at her stupid talent show because even though Marianne’s da and Paul’s da were laughing, Marianne and Paul have to stop kissing now. Even the girls hate me because it’s spoiled Marianne and Paul from being boyfriend and girlfriend. I’m glad though because it’s got rid of the sick feeling I had in my stomach when Dirty Alice made me see them kissing. I hate Dirty Alice and I will punch her in the arm next time I see her.

I AM WOKEN
from my bed and it’s still night-time. Everyone is talking at once, my ma is screaming and my granny is asking for God. I can hear my da but he doesn’t sound quite like Da. He sounds like someone else. His voice is higher than usual and I wonder if the house is on fire. I put my slippers on and sneak downstairs, but I am heard on the step and Da is quick to the staircase.

‘Michael, go back to bed,’ he says. His face is red and frightened. I don’t like it one bit. I hear my ma crying and my granny whispering in the background; her words are soft, the kind you say to a child who has fallen.

‘What’s the matter, Da? Why is Ma crying?’ I demand.

‘Go to bed, Michael.’ He sounds desperate and wants to go back to the kitchen. He keeps looking at the door. There’s something behind it and I’m not supposed to see.

‘Please, Michael. Just go upstairs,’ he begs and then uses the wall to hold him up, like he thinks he might fall over or something.

Da never talks to me like this and so I go upstairs, but I let him know I’m not happy about it. Da watches me go. I can feel his eyes on me. He waits at the bottom of the stairs until he knows I am in my room and then he removes himself and goes to the kitchen. The door is closed tight behind him. I wait for five minutes until a new commotion begins downstairs. It’s like they can’t stop themselves. I decide I’ve had enough and go downstairs. I am very careful to avoid the creaky step this time. I make it to the kitchen door and no one has heard me. I’m quite pleased with myself and lean against the door.

‘You must have seen something. Think!’ begs Granny.

‘He has a gold chain on his wrist. It was heavy,’ cries Ma.

‘What else?’ says Da.

‘He was tall,’ whispers Ma. ‘I don’t remember anything else. It was dark. Oh God, he wouldn’t let me go till he had a smoke.’ She starts to scream. Granny has to get her to calm down. She’s probably worried about the neighbours. Granny is always worried about the neighbours.

‘We have to call the police,’ says Da.

‘No,’ cries Ma.

‘What are you talking about?’ says Granny. ‘There’s a madman out there.’

‘No, Shirley,’ begs Ma. ‘I don’t want people to know.’

Granny and Da go quiet. Ma whispers something else through sobs and I can’t hear anything.

‘No,’ says Da. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying!’

‘It’s what I want. We’ll say I fell. I won’t go to the police. I won’t. They’ll say things about me. Terrible things. Oh God,’ Ma yells out. The crying continues and so much of it. I wonder what’s wrong with her. Then Da tells Ma she shouldn’t have been walking through the park at all. ‘If I’ve told you once then I’ve told you a thousand times go down the high street. Why the hell would you walk through the park anyway? It’s pitch black.’ I hear him cry like a baby. I haven’t heard my da cry since John Lennon died and I must have made a noise because the next thing the door is suddenly ripped open and Da is standing there, his face wet with tears.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

I look past him to Ma. Her face is bloody and Granny is holding her so tight I wonder if Ma can breathe.

‘What happened to Ma?’ I gasp. I want to go to her straight away, but Da won’t let me past him. ‘What’s wrong, Ma?’ I ask. Ma buries her head in Granny’s chest. She can’t even look at me.

That’s when Granny tells me Ma has seen a flasher. Da gives Granny a terrible look as if she’s said something mad.

‘What’s a flasher?’ I ask.

‘A pervert,’ Granny screams and grabs Ma tighter.

‘Why is there all this blood, Da?’ I ask. It’s making me scared and I think I might cry.

‘Ma fell over, son. She ran away from the bad man and then she fell, don’t worry, son, away to bed now,’ says Da.

‘That’s right, Michael. This man flashed your ma and scared the life out of her, then she tripped and then she fell and . . .’ Granny doesn’t finish. She starts bawling her eyes out instead. ‘Take him upstairs,’ snaps Granny at Da.

‘What about Ma?’ I plead. ‘She’s hurt. I want to stay with her, Da.’

‘Come on, son,’ says Da. He puts his hand on my shoulder and leads me from the kitchen all the way upstairs to my bedroom. Da sits me down on the bed. He tells me I’ve not to say anything about the flasher.

‘Why?’ I ask.

‘People might say things,’ says Da.

‘What things?’

Da is running out of words and rubs at his forehead.

‘I don’t know,’ he whispers.

I worry he’ll get upset again but I still want to know about the blood and Ma and the flasher.

‘Da?’ I ask. ‘Tell me why we can’t say anything.’

‘Because they might not believe there really was a flasher, Michael,’ whispers Da.

‘But why?’ I ask. Nothing makes sense to me. Nothing.

‘For Christ’s sake, Michael, just say Ma fell down the concrete stairs in front of our house, will you?’ Da is getting mad, but I don’t care. Everything feels wrong to me.

‘But why? Should he not go to jail for flashing at Ma and making her fall like that?’

‘No one is to know about the flasher. Do you understand, Michael?’

I still don’t know what flashing is but I nod in agreement and promise not to tell. Then Da asks me to go to sleep. I agree to that too, although we both know the house is going to be awake all night and I’m right.

Later Da calls a taxi and takes Ma to hospital. I know this because Ma is screaming she doesn’t want to go. I watch them from Granny’s window. Da has to hold Ma up. When he comes back a few hours later it’s without Ma. I am desperate to know about Ma and sneak back downstairs. I know I’ll get a hiding this time, but I don’t care.

‘Did she tell them?’ says Granny.

Da shakes his head.

‘Then what did she say?’

‘Nothing. She can hardly open her mouth for God’s sake . . . They think I did it, Ma, you should have seen the look Tommy Gordon gave me in the taxi, even the doctors think I did it. They asked me so many questions. I told them she fell down the stairs, but they weren’t having any of it. The police took me down the station.’

‘You have to tell them the truth,’ gasps Granny.

‘You heard her. She doesn’t want it.’

‘She didn’t know what she was saying, Brian, don’t be stupid,’ says Granny.

‘She made me promise, Ma. She said people would say all sorts about her. Maybe she’s right. I don’t know. You know them better than me.’

‘People would understand. This wasn’t her fault,’ says Granny.

‘Would you understand, Ma?’

‘Of course I would. What do you take me for?’

‘What about Bridie Forsyth?’

‘Bridie Forsyth couldn’t keep her knickers on and Peter Hughes is a good man who goes to chapel every Sunday. He’s very good-looking. He wouldn’t hurt a soul.’

‘You don’t know the first thing about Peter Hughes. He’s a fucking drunk and a mean one at that. No woman would make a thing like that up. She had to leave the fucking island with the gossiping.’

‘You know how Bridie was. She was looking for it if you ask me!’

‘And maybe that’s what they’ll say about Rosemary. She’s terrified, Ma.’

Granny is silenced. I wonder who Bridie Forsyth is and what it was she was looking for.

‘You’d rather they thought you beat your wife to a pulp?’

‘It’s what Rosemary wants,’ he cries.

‘And what do you want?’ asks Granny.

‘I want to kill the bastard,’ cries Da and then there’s a banging on the table.

‘A lot of good that will do now. We don’t even know who he is,’ says Granny.

I’ve heard enough and go back to my room. In the morning I am full of questions. Granny folds laundry and Da looks tired. I ask him about flashing. He doesn’t want to tell me. Neither does Granny. They want me to disappear with my football, but I don’t. My ma has been flashed at and I want to know what it means. She’s in hospital with a sore face and a limp. She fell hard because of this flasher. I have a right to know what’s going on and why I’m to tell everyone she fell on the stairs. Da gives in and tells me flashing is when a man shows a woman his willy and makes her afraid for her life and so I hope Dirty Alice is flashed. I hate her more than anyone in the world. She’s ruined my whole life because no one will talk to me or play keepy-uppies with me and now Paul MacDonald might fight me because I told on him for kissing Marianne. I don’t want to fight Paul MacDonald, he’s bigger than me. Paul MacDonald is bigger than everyone.