Closed Doors (7 page)

MA GOES TO
college in Greenock. Da hates it. She takes her books in the leather bag that used to belong to Grandpa Jake. She goes early in the morning on the six-thirty boat and comes back at five in the evening in time for tea. Then she’s off to work to clean the school floors. At night she is exhausted and falls straight to sleep.

‘You’ll kill yourself at this rate,’ says Granny to Ma.

‘It’s worth it. I’m learning so much, Shirley.’

‘Like what?’ says Granny.

‘Shakespeare. You should see how badly women get treated in his plays. S’terrible.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, they’re not free, are they? They’re always passed from father to husband. And they’re never trusted, sometimes they’re murdered.’

‘Murdered you say? Jesus save us.’

‘Sounds like a load of shite to me,’ says Da.

Ma ignores him and I ignore Ma. She’s never around these days and always off somewhere. Da says she’s running away from herself but then he gets a look from Granny, which means he shouldn’t say things like that around me, like the scandal of Tricia and Skinny Rab. When it all came out Da and I just tittered and winked at each other. We were secretly glad Tricia and Skinny Rab had gotten themselves caught for running into bushes together. We don’t like Tricia any more even if Ma does.

Now everyone knows about it, especially all the kids. It’s all out and whispered about behind dirty wee hands.

Kids are mostly not allowed to know anything about grown-up stuff. Marianne’s ma and da are probably fighting about it every night but Marianne will be asleep or pretending it’s just a normal fight. She’ll ignore the stuff about Tricia Law and she’ll be glad when her da says sorry to her ma. She’ll pretend and hope everything is fixed so she can get on with the talent show that’s never going to happen anyway. She will never cry, not in front of us, and she will never tell, even though we all know anyway because most of us listen at doors. Sometimes I imagine Luke and Dirty Alice finding out about their ma having cancer while listening at a door or maybe they were sat down and told properly. Probably not. Kids are always the last to know anything, except me. ‘He’s quiet on his feet all right,’ says Ma and looks at me suspiciously.

When they want to speak really privately, they sometimes stop mid-sentence and Granny will say, ‘Little jugs have big lugs.’ I’m sent from the room with the door firmly closed then, but I listen anyway, my ear pushed against the wood panelling.

Granny says Marianne’s ma might leave the island now.

‘She only came here for him, you know?’ says Granny.

‘I think she’ll stay,’ says Ma. ‘For the child,’ she whispers.

‘Well, I think she should leave for the child. A woman never forgets a thing like that and all they’ll do is fight in front of her and mess her little head up. I say move on and be done with it,’ says Da.

‘What do you know about moving on?’ snaps Ma.

‘More than you do,’ cracks Da.

‘Fuck you, Brian,’ snaps Ma.

Da doesn’t shuffle his paper this time. He slaps it on the table and off he storms from the kitchen again. He almost catches me at the door but I get away in time. He’d go mad if he caught me spying.

After my dinner I go to the car park to practise my keepy-uppies and find Dirty Alice drawing with a stick on the gravel. I sneak up behind her and find her drawing a love heart. I want to run and not see, but she’d hear me, so I scare her out of her wits and give her time to rub out the heart in the gravel.

She screams at me. ‘What did you do that for?’

‘I want to practise my keepy-uppies and you’re in my way. Where is everyone anyway?’

‘In for their tea,’ says Dirty Alice.

‘Why are you not in for your tea?’ I ask.

‘Because Louisa Connor is in there making us shite and peas to eat and I won’t touch her food. I won’t.’

‘That’s daft,’ I say. ‘You’ll starve.’

‘I hate her.’

‘You can still hate her and have your dinner,’ I say.

Dirty Alice thinks on this while her tummy grumbles like mad. ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you?’

‘I’m cleverer than you,’ I say. ‘Why did you blame me for the broken window, Alice? Did you really think people would believe I’d do something like that? It was stupid of you.’

She goes red. ‘I’m sorry, Michael,’ she says. ‘I didn’t mean it. I was just mad at stupid Louisa Connor.’

‘She’s a nice lady. You’ll get used to her.’ My ball slips from my knee and rolls under a car.

‘You’re rubbish at keepy-uppies,’ Alice snips and then walks away to her house so she can chew on her shite and peas and still hate Louisa Connor. She’s a bitch, that Alice, even if she is sorry for blaming me for crimes I did not commit.

I think Louisa is the most beautiful name in the world and when I have a baby one day I hope it will be a girl with hair like Blondie and a face like Mrs Connor.

I practise my keepy-uppies like mad and Marianne, who has finished her tea, comes out to the car park. I think she’s going to practise her songs, but she doesn’t, she watches me do my keepy-uppies for a while and I love it. She looks like she’s never seen such skill.

‘I’m going to play for Celtic one day,’ I tell her.

‘I bet you do, Michael,’ she says.

I love that she says this.

‘Do you like me, Michael?’ she says.

I almost faint.

‘You’re all right,’ I say but my heart is thumping like a ball on concrete.

‘You want to go somewhere with me?’ she says.

‘Where?’ I say.

‘Down there,’ she says.

It’s the bushes, the long bushes where no one can see you. It’s where kissing and all sorts of things go on and if someone sees you coming out of the bushes with a girl you get the hiding of your life and the girl is kept indoors for ever and ever. It’s worse than being caught behind a shed because you can do anything you like in the bushes and the penalty for being caught is merciless. I want to take Mrs Connor to the bushes.

‘All right,’ I say.

Marianne runs to the bushes. She doesn’t care about being caught. She doesn’t care about anything. When I get there I am cold with the trembles because at last I am going to kiss Marianne Cameron. I wonder how I should start, maybe like Paul with my hand on her shoulder, but I don’t get a chance to even think about it, Marianne kisses me full on the face and puts her tongue in my mouth. I push her away. It’s disgusting.

‘It’s French-kissing,’ she says. ‘Everyone does it.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Because you don’t know how. I’ll show you.’

‘OK,’ I say. ‘But don’t put your whole tongue in and not so quickly,’ I say.

She nods and she’s gentle this time and it’s nice, I suppose, but I still hate it and push her away. It’s like eating ham.

‘I don’t like it,’ I say. ‘Can’t we do it without your tongue?’ I say.

‘OK,’ she says.

‘Lie back,’ I tell her.

She lies back. I get on top of her and put my lips on her lips and push really hard and move my head around like I’ve seen on the TV. She holds me tight but then she opens her mouth again and bites my top lip and I get off her then. It is sore and horrible. I’m very sad about the whole thing to be honest. I always thought kissing Marianne Cameron would be the most amazing thing in the entire universe, but it isn’t. She’s like a big wet dog. I feel embarrassed.

‘Michael,’ she says, ‘you want to see something?’

‘OK,’ I say.

‘But you can’t tell anyone,’ she says.

‘All right,’ I say.

She lifts up her skirts, pulls down her knickers and shows me her fanny. I’ve seen a fanny before. Paul MacDonald has a collection of them in his gorgeous magazines with the beautiful women, but this is different, and so I run away and think Marianne Cameron is a terrible girl. I want to tell my da but I can’t because then I would have to tell him about the bushes and the wet tongue and the wiggling about on top of Marianne Cameron and I don’t think he should know about these things.

I go straight home instead and even though Granny has bought ice cream from the van, my very favourite, I go straight upstairs and put my pyjamas on. I tell my da I am tired and don’t feel well. Everyone believes me because I am never sick and they know it is serious because I like ice cream more than anything in the world and would do anything to eat it, except today. Ma checks my head and says it’s a little warm. Da looks worried and Granny says she’ll put the ice cream in the freezer for me.

‘You can have it later,’ she says.

I turn on my side. I feel like crying. It is the worst day of my life.

THE WAR IS
over and a man called Simon Weston is badly wounded. He is burned all over his body and has no face. He is a hero and everyone loves him.

‘It’s a terrible thing not to have a face,’ says Da.

‘It’s a terrible thing to have two of them,’ laughs Granny.

Ma laughs hard, she’s laughing more now, it’s a miracle, but Da goes mental and slams his fists so hard on the table the cups filled with tea spill to the floor.

‘Will no one talk about serious things in this house? Look at the man.’ He waves the paper in their faces. ‘He can’t run from his troubles. He looks at them every day in the mirror and he doesn’t turn away like a coward.’ He sits down, his face red with rage.

‘What the fuck do you know about serious things?’ says Ma. ‘You don’t even have a job and you haven’t even tried to find one.’

‘There are no jobs on this island!’ yells Da.

‘Then leave the fucking island. Go to the mainland. Travel on the boat every day. It’s not hard, Brian.’

‘Not for you, Rosemary, with your bloody professor to keep you company.’

‘Not this again.’

‘I can’t believe you told him,’ says Da. ‘Why would you do that? It’s supposed to be a secret. We’re going mad trying to keep it and you tell the first person that comes along. How could you do that to us?’

‘Do what?’

‘Tell a stranger.’

‘He’s not a stranger to me,’ screams Ma.

She stomps out of the room, she’s going anywhere to get away from Da, but he won’t be left behind in the kitchen and follows her to the stairs. I don’t know why everyone stomps everywhere in this house. It’s a small house and there are only a few places you can go anyhow. There’s the living room, the hall or one of the bedrooms upstairs. Never the bathroom, which I think is a good place to go because it has a lock on the door.

‘You think I don’t know what’s going on in Greenock, Rosemary, at your fancy college?’ he yells. ‘I’m no fool.’

I wonder what’s going on in Greenock.

From the top of the stairs she yells, ‘Not a bloody thing. I’m learning and you can’t stand it. He’s my teacher.’

‘But why did you tell him?’

‘I had no one else to tell,’ she screams.

‘You said no one was to know and the shite I’ve had to put up with on account of it, it isn’t fair. If you’re going to tell people then let’s tell people here, let’s tell the police. I can’t take another evil eye. Even in church the pew is all mine, no fucker will sit near me because they think I bash my wife.’

Granny can’t send me anywhere because it’s too late. I’ve already heard about the teacher and the secret Ma told him and I can’t be sent out of the house because it’s too dark and I can’t be sent to my room because Ma and Da are fighting on the stairs and blocking the way to my bedroom.

‘I felt someone else had to know. He won’t say anything. He’s a nice man. My work is suffering because of it. I don’t want to fail this course. I can’t fail. You’d like him. He’s a nice man.’

‘Your fancy man. I don’t think so.’

‘He’s ready for retirement, you stupid bastard.’

The room is silenced and Da really does feel like a stupid B-word.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I still think we need help with this. You’re running around like a fart in a trance. You can’t go on like this.’

I laugh because saying
fart in a trance
is funny to me.

‘Not in front of the boy, you two,’ says Granny.

They see me and smile. They feel bad. I’ll get money out of this for sure.

‘I know what I’m doing, Brian, but you have to trust me.’

‘I trust you, Rosemary, I worry for you. You can’t blame a man for that.’

Ma disappears into her room where she keeps the special pills that help her sleep. I found them looking for my da’s chewing gum. Ma told him his breath stinks and so he chews at it all day. For a minute I thought the pills were gum, a new kind, but Da was right behind me.

‘What you looking for, Michael?’

‘Some gum,’ I said.

‘Here you go,’ said Da, lifting some from the table.

‘Off you go,’ he said.

‘What are these?’ I said.

‘Pills to help Ma get some shut-eye, to help us all get some shut-eye, but don’t be touching them, all right? You’ll get poisoned. They’re not for children.’

Da said Ma’s teacher in Greenock helped her find them. Da was not pleased. He is afraid of men for Ma’s sake, but since she sleeps without screaming now he is also grateful, especially now he knows the teacher is old enough to marry my granny.

‘It is a good thing for us all,’ said Granny. ‘Your ma has to sleep.’

MA AND GRANNY
roll their eyes when it is the summer holidays. They never know what to do with me. Neither does Da. We don’t go on holidays much. Other people do. They go to Butlins or visit relatives in Glasgow and act like it’s Mallorca or something. Some people actually go to Mallorca, like the McCabes. They love Mallorca and come back all brown and happy. Hairy McCabe is always showing off when she gets back about the fancy chewing gum you get in Spain, like we don’t have chewing gum here in Scotland, but everyone always crowds round her like it’s the best chewing gum the world has ever seen because it says ‘Chicle’. Then she talks about the price and it’s always really expensive, which makes her stupid for buying it as far as I’m concerned when she can get it for half the price at home, but it’s always amazing to everyone how much the chewing gum costs in Mallorca. It’s the same with Mars bars and Marathons, they cost pounds in Mallorca or so Hairy McCabe says. Mallorca is stupid. I like Rothesay best. We have beaches and every year the fair comes and we get goldfish. Mine always die after a few weeks but I don’t mind because the next year I’ll get a new one. I love the summer holidays, no one yelling at you to get out of bed, and it’s always nice and warm except when it’s raining and cold. Also the talent show is soon, but I can hardly look at Marianne Cameron right now. She is a different girl to me. I tell no one about the bushes and neither does she, she would die of shame and I wouldn’t blame her. What a show. Anyway, Dirty Alice would have said something if she knew and to everyone in the whole wide world most likely. Marianne acts like nothing has happened and sings even louder when I’m around. I try not to listen even when she’s really good and makes people open their doors and sit on their steps peeling their potatoes or carrots. Sometimes Skinny Rab will bring a fag out and listen against the wall next to Marianne’s ma. I wonder if they’re still fighting like mad people.