by V Clifford
Wednesday
When sleep came it was fitful. She rose early and went out for a run. It was good to get out before she had to dodge the school kids on the streets. The Meadows had a few joggers and since the sun was making an effort to come through there were many ‘good mornings’ as they passed on their laps. She was a clockwise woman but there were those who were more comfortable with the opposite. Even in the most basic things folk were different. She smiled and increased her pace; it was okay to be different. How dull was sameness? Maybe she didn’t need to know about her mum. Maybe it was best for her to go to her grave with those stories. After all they were her memories to keep.
When she arrived at the Pound Mand’s car was already parked at the back door, so she pulled in behind it. Her mum answered the buzzer and the door clicked open. The warden was chatting to another resident and glanced at Viv, almost smiling before she realised who it was. Viv nodded and took the stairs. Her mum’s door was ajar.
‘Tea?’ her mum said.
She’d have preferred coffee but said, ‘Great.’
Mand shot her a look that she couldn’t work out. Then she shrugged and Viv got the I’ve-no-idea-what’s-going-on-here message.
Their mum brought a tray through with mugs, a pot of tea and a plate of plain digestives. ‘Right, I suppose you want me to tell you all about my life in the service? Well, that’s not going to happen. But what I will tell you is that during my time,’ she poured out the tea and handed them each a mug, ‘I had to look after an agent from another service. She for some reason left me a legacy in her will.’
Viv snorted. ‘A bit of a . . .’
Her mum shot her a look. ‘Do you want my story or not?’
Viv nodded and her mum continued, ‘She left a large sum of money and a letter of wishes. In that letter she said that in the event of my death before the estate was wound up, the money was to go to the community. By this I assumed she meant the community that surrounded the camp that she was held in . . . where we were based. Locals were kind. They brought prisoners gifts of food, books, hand-knitted socks. So that’s what I did. I created a trust for the community. They know best what they need. I had no idea she had sons. Otherwise . . .’ she stared out of the window. ‘Actually since she didn’t change her will in their favour I’m guessing she had reason not to. So perhaps I’d have done exactly the same thing. And given Kristian and Kurt’s recent behaviour she probably did have good reason. As for the other stuff for the service, I signed . . .’
Viv interrupted her, ‘The Official Secrets Act.’
Her mum nodded. ‘Exactly. And until I die it stays in here.’ She tapped her temple. ‘Disappointing for you two. I mean getting a little information is so tantalising, but you didn’t get it from me and nor will you.’
Mand passed Viv the plate of digestives but she said, ‘No thanks. I’ll get something on my way home.’
Her mum said, ‘Ever the independent.’
Viv grunted, ‘Well, that’s rich coming from you.’
Her mum stood at the window, straight-backed, almost elegant, or was it dignified? The way that she perceived her mum had changed, it had had to. The person she’d encountered in the last while bore no relation to the film-watching couch potato that she’d thought her mum had become.
She smiled at Mand. ‘What do you think, sis?’
Mand sat with her mug in hand and was about to dip a digestive into it before stopping and laying it back on the plate, ‘Well I’m sorry we’re not getting to hear about your exploits, mum. I mean you are our mum.’
‘And that’s how I’d like it to stay. I don’t need to be made into a superhero, because I’m not. I’ve always been your mum, the same mum whose home baking wasn’t up to scratch for the school fair, but who won the egg and spoon race every year.’ She sipped her tea, a smile creeping at the edges of her lips.
Viv had forgotten about school sports days, but now remembered that the other mums had talked about trying to beat her. They never had. How selective memories were. If she were to go through the family photograph albums now, knowing what little she did, she’d probably notice different things. She’d hatch a plan with Mand so that they could do it together. This episode was like finding out she’d had a long-lost brother or sister, a Sliding Doors moment, which left too many what ifs.
She laid her hands on her thighs and pushed herself up. ‘If we’re not getting the lowdown I’ve got things to do. How about you, Mand?’ She glanced at her sister and saw her in a different light as well.
Mand raised her mug. ‘I’ll finish up here, but we’ll speak later.’
Viv walked to her mum’s side and felt her tense. She rubbed her upper arm. ‘You’ve always been our superhero, Official Secrets Act or not.’
Her mum sighed, ‘I wish your dad was here to see how grown up you both are.’
Viv turned and glanced at Mand who was wiping her cheek. ‘Right I’ll be off then.’ She patted Mand’s shoulder on the way to the door, but didn’t look back.
She sprinted from the Grassmarket to the flat and took the stair two at a time. Her laptop was asleep but only took seconds to come to life. Her inbox pinged with message after message from Sal, as if they’d been in a holding cell for days. Good news, Sal was dying to hear her voice. She could do better than a phone call, so she Googled flights to New York. Sure enough, new direct flights to New York were available from Edinburgh. She might as well do it sooner rather than later. She clicked on the ‘Buy Now’ icon.
Viv grinned as she opened the fridge door. Not much of a selection but no point in stocking up now that she was going away. She threw open the sitting-room window and gazed at the hills in the distance. Time to find out what Sal was really up to.
THE END
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