The Wrong Boy

by Willy Russell

  But I wasn’t paying attention, Morrissey. I wasn’t paying attention to all sorts of things. Because I was no longer interested, Morrissey. And I feel terrible saying it now but back then, when I was still in Sunny Pines and just coming up to fourteen, I wasn’t really interested in my Mam’s problems. My Mam, my Aunty Paula, my Uncle Jason, they were just … there, really; like the wallpaper’s there and the carpet’s there and the three-piece suite is there. And just like you never pay much attention to the wallpaper or the carpet, I didn’t pay that much attention to what was going on at home. I didn’t even pay that much attention to him, the Lert. He was always round at ours; just dropping in for a cup of tea and a chat. Or giving my Mam a lift over to see my Gran at Stalybridge. And sometimes just taking my Mam out for a drive. ‘Just to give your mum a break, Raymond,’ he said. And then asking my Mam if she’d like to come to one of his meetings with him; because that might give her a bit of a break and all. And I know now that I should have paid some attention to all that.

  But none of that was exciting, Morrissey. Not like being with my friends was exciting, being with Norman and Twink. And that’s where I wanted to be all the time really, with Norman and Twink, talking like we did and making all our plans and making each other laugh; and loving it, being together. My Gran understood that. Even when she was a doolally woman, my Gran could see what special friends me and Twinky and Norman were.

  We went to see her.

  We got the bus to Stalybridge. And before we got to the Sanctuary for Seasoned Citizens we stopped at the shop and I bought a packet of Garibaldi biscuits. I didn’t even know if my Gran would remember that she liked Garibaldi biscuits but I bought them anyway.

  The nurse said weren’t we good boys, coming all this way just to visit a poor old lady.

  I didn’t like it, the nurse talking about my Gran like that. My Gran wasn’t a poor old lady at all; she was my Gran!

  ‘Now then,’ the nurse said, running her finger down a list of names, ‘it’s Vera, isn’t it? Vera Bradwell.’

  I nodded and the nurse said, ‘That’s right. Vera Bradwell.’ But then she laughed and winked as she said, ‘We call her Vera Madeira.’ She laughed again. ‘We give them all pet names,’ she said. ‘They love it.’

  I just looked at her. And tried to imagine it, my Gran being addressed as Vera Madeira; and supposedly loving it.

  ‘She’s at the concert party,’ the nurse said. ‘Come on, I’ll show you where the day room is and you can squeeze in at the back till it’s finished and then you’ll be able to see your Gran.’

  We started walking down the corridors, past all these rooms, some of them with the doors open so you could see the old people sitting there or lying in their beds.

  ‘Most of these,’ the nurse said, half whispering, ‘they’re too far gone to appreciate the entertainment. They prefer the comfort of their own rooms. We try and have a laugh with them, like we do with all the guests. But these, they’re too far gone.’

  They didn’t look far gone, the old people sat there in their rooms; they just looked sad and shrivelled up. I felt sorry for them. And I know that Twinky must have felt the same because he kept waving at the old persons and beaming his big lovely smile at them.

  Norman wasn’t smiling at anybody though. Norman was just walking along all hunched up, his head bent down, a scowl on his face and his eyebrows all furrowed up together.

  ‘What’s up?’ I whispered.

  But Norman shook his head and scowled even more as he whispered back, ‘They fuckin’ frighten me, Fly!’

  ‘Who?’ I whispered.

  Norman shook his head again and said, ‘Old people! They fuckin’ frighten me. I wanna go home.’

  ‘Norman, you’ll be all right,’ I told him. ‘Don’t worry. My Gran’s not like an old person. In fact, my Gran’s not really an old person at all.’

  And that was true, because I never even thought of my Gran as an old person; not like all these old persons that Twinky kept waving at and offering his greetings to like he was a visiting celebrity. And I think the nurse who was showing us the way to the day room was getting a bit brassed off because when one old lady smiled and waved back at Twinky, he just waltzed straight into her room and started going into raptures about how beautifully embroidered her bedspread was. By the time the nurse realised there was one of us missing and went back to fetch him, Twinky was talking embroidery with the old lady and telling her he’d never seen such an exquisite example in all his life. And you could tell she was really made up, the lady, because her eyes were all ablaze with delight as she sat there, tightly clutching Twinky’s hand in her sparrow-bird fingers and telling him how every single stitch was the work of her own, once nimble hands.

  But the nurse coughed and spoke to the embroidery lady like she was a deaf person, or a daft person, telling her, ‘Come on now, Margaret. These visitors aren’t here for you. They’ve come to see Vera Madeira.’

  And when we were walking down the corridor again, the nurse told Twinky, ‘You don’t want to be getting yourself trapped with Margaret! She’s never been a bit of fun, that one. Margaret Thatcher, that’s what we call her, Maggie Thatcher. She’d bore you to death with her embroidery.’

  ‘I wasn’t bored a bit,’ Twinky told the nurse. ‘In fact I could have happily talked to that lady for hours. I do embroidery myself,’ he said.

  ‘Oh do y’?’ she said, the nurse, nodding and looking Twinky up and down like he was something that had just been gobbed up on the pavement. ‘Well! I suppose it takes all sorts.’

  But Twinky just lifted up his head, stuck his chin right out and executed a perfect pirouette. She ignored him then, turned to me and said, ‘Come on, I’ll show y’ where your grandma is.’

  She pushed open the door and showed us into this big room.

  I couldn’t see my Gran anywhere because we were stuck at the back, behind all the seasoned citizens who were stuffed into the day room, all of them sitting around on seats or in wheelchairs, each one of them clutching hold of a piece of string that had a balloon on the end of it. And up at the front on a small platform was one of those musical groups where the men have big beards and the ladies have stringy hair and don’t wear any make-up and they’re all very hearty people. The boss of the group was talking to the old people, telling them, ‘Well now, lads and lasses, we’re having some top fun this afternoon, aren’t we? Come on, let’s hear a big cheer for all the top fun we’re having today.’

  Only I don’t think they were having much ‘top fun’ really. Because the only ones who cheered were the various nurses. The seasoned citizens who weren’t asleep just sat there staring blankly back at the bearded singer. Not that he seemed to be that put out though because he raised a triumphant fist as he declared, ‘Yes! That’s right! We are! We’re having a right party this afternoon, aren’t we, lads and lasses? And just to show how much fabulous fun we’re having today, I want to see everybody giving those balloons a really good shake. Come on now, lads and lasses: one, two, three, now shake those balloons.’

  I don’t know why he bothered! Most of the seasoned citizens had such trembling hands that they couldn’t help but shake the bleeding balloons. But he didn’t even seem to notice that and he kept saying, ‘Yes, that’s right! Let’s see those balloons really shaking now, shaking for all the fun that we’re having today.’

  And with that, him and his group launched into an appalling song about somebody called Wild Rover who never wanted to go wild roving no more.

  Twinky just looked at me as we stood there. And he said, ‘Fly! I think I’m gonna vom!’

  And glaring at the hairy hearties, who seemed to get hairier and heartier as the song went on, Norman said, ‘Why is it that you never have a fuckin’ machine gun when y’ need one!?’

  And then, just for a startled second, I thought that perhaps somebody did have a gun because there was a sudden loud bang and everybody jumped. Only it turned out to be just a balloon that had burst and I saw one of th
e nurses going down to the front to sort it out.

  Then I heard her, talking like she was chastising a naughty child, saying, ‘Vera! Did you do that on purpose? Now that’s not very pleasant, is it? Look what you’ve done to your nice balloon.’

  And that’s when I heard my Gran’s voice, heard her as she told the nurse, ‘Bugger the bloody balloon!’

  And that’s when I saw her, my Gran; saw her standing up at the front and then picking her way through the chairs, with the nurse following her, saying things like, ‘Vera! Where do you think you’re going? The concert’s not over yet, Vera.’

  But it was perfectly apparent that my Gran had very different ideas about that and as far as she was concerned the concert was well and truly over. A thunderous look on her face, she was headed straight for the doors, telling the nurse, ‘I told you. I told y’ before, I said I didn’t want to come here. Bloody balloons! Silly sodding singing. I’m not stopping here. I’m not. I’m not stopping!’

  Me, Twinky and Norman were stood in front of the doors. And as my Gran got to them, Twinky and Norman moved aside to let my Gran past. But I just stood there, until my Gran looked up and was staring straight at me. I was smiling at her. I said, ‘Hiya, Gran!’

  But my Gran just looked at me. Stood there, all stooped over, looking like an old person now and staring suspiciously at me, scowling and shaking her head as she pushed past me, through the doors and out into the corridor.

  I felt awful. I’d been delighted when I’d seen it was my Gran who’d burst her balloon. I thought it might mean that my Gran had remembered who she was again. But she’d been stood right in front of me. And hadn’t recognised me. And now she was just wandering away up the corridor, with the nurse following and saying, ‘Vera Madeira! I just don’t know what’s got into you today, Vera.’

  I stood there in the corridor, with Twinky and Norman, watching her go.

  And Norman said, ‘Fuckin’ hell, Fly! I’m fuckin’ never gonna get old.’

  I just nodded. And I felt awful, for my Gran. And for my friends. Because I’d wanted them to meet my Gran, my proper Gran. Not this person who’d changed so much that she didn’t even recognise me any more.

  We started walking back up the corridor, towards the exit signs. And that’s when it began to dawn on me; when I was thinking about how much my Gran had changed in such a short time. That’s when I realised; that it wasn’t only my Gran who had changed! And that the reason she hadn’t recognised me might not have anything to do with what was happening to her mind.

  ‘Come on!’ I shouted at Norman and Twink as I ran back down the corridor. And as I got round the corner, I saw my Gran and the nurse, just about to go into a room.

  ‘Gran!’ I shouted. ‘Gran!’ She turned and she looked and as I ran up to her, I said, ‘Gran! It is! It’s me.’ I was smiling at her. ‘It’s Raymond!’ I said.

  She frowned at first. But then I saw it in her eyes, the sudden spark of light and the recognition. And then her face just crumpled up like a rag and she started crying. But as she did, she stretched out her arms and hugged me to her as she said, ‘Son … son … Raymond … what’s happened to you, son? What’s become of you?’

  ‘Gran! Gran!’ I said. ‘It’s all right! Nothing’s happened to me, Gran! I’ve just got thin again, that’s all. That’s why you didn’t recognise me; because I’ve lost all the weight, Gran. Look.’

  I stood back and let my Gran look at me.

  ‘See!’ I told her. ‘It is me! I’m just slim again, that’s all, like I used to be.’

  My Gran stared and stared. And then the nurse, who’d been stood there looking a bit suspicious, said, ‘Do you know him, Vera? Do you know this young man?’

  My Gran slowly turned her head and fixed the nurse with her glare. ‘Don’t be so stupid!’ my Gran said. ‘Know him? Of course I know him!’

  The nurse shook her head and gave my Gran a huffy look. Then she turned to me and said, ‘Well, she’s all yours then. And you’re welcome to her and all. I don’t know,’ the nurse said as she started walking off, ‘I don’t know what’s got into you today, Vera. You’re just not yourself at all.’

  But she was wrong, that nurse. Because my Gran was herself! She was completely and perfectly herself. She just stared at the disappearing nurse and said, ‘Go on, bugger off. Go and rattle your bloody balloons and leave me to see my gorgeous grandson.’

  I said, ‘I’ve brought y’ some biscuits, Gran.’

  ‘Oh!’ my Gran said as I handed them to her. ‘Garibaldis! You couldn’t have brought me anything better, son; I’ve been longing for a biscuit with a bit of character to it. The biscuits they give us in here,’ she said, ‘they’re just these puffed-up little things with hardly a bite or a bit of backbone to them!’

  And I knew for definite then that my Gran was my Gran again. I just stood there smiling at her. Then I remembered Norman and Twinky, who were stood there further down the corridor.

  ‘And Gran,’ I said, ‘I’ve brought my friends to see y’.’

  My Gran looked down the corridor to where Twinky and Norman were stood. ‘Now then,’ she said as she squinted at them, ‘who’s this?’

  ‘It’s Twinky and Norman, Gran,’ I told her. ‘It was Twinky and Norman who helped me to get all slim again.’

  My Gran stared at them both for a second. Then screwing up her eyes, she said to Twinky, ‘I know you, don’t I?’

  Twinky nodded and my Gran said, ‘Of course I do! Aren’t you that little homosexual lad who took such a good part as the Virgin Mary?’

  Twinky just nodded at my Gran. And then his big bright smile lit up the whole of his face as he said, ‘Yes. And aren’t you that wicked old witch from Failsworth who used to frighten me shitless, trying to get me to dance in Sainsbury’s?’

  My Gran smiled back at Twinky. ‘You wouldn’t do it though, would y’?’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t dance no more, not after that Nativity.’

  ‘He dances now though, Gran,’ I said.

  My Gran looked at Twinky. ‘Go on then,’ she urged him, ‘go on, give us a pirouette.’

  And Twinky obliged, my Gran clapping her hands and watching him with her eyes all sparkling as he came pirouetting all the way up the corridor and fell at my Gran’s feet in a splendid if somewhat ostentatious curtsy.

  My Gran bent down and helped Twinky to his feet. And he just stood there, staring at my Gran. And I could tell, from the way he stood there smiling, that he was enchanted by her. But my Gran was looking down the corridor again, where Norman was still stood, looking nervous and ill at ease.

  ‘And what’s wrong with you?’ my Gran said. ‘You look like you’ve been sucking lemons, lad; what’s the matter with you?’

  Norman just shrugged and said, ‘I don’t … it’s just … I fu … I just … I don’t like it,’ he said.

  ‘Norman’s a bit frightened, Gran,’ I explained, ‘because he doesn’t like it in here. He’s a bit frightened of all the old people.’

  ‘I don’t blame him!’ my Gran said. ‘I’m frightened of them myself. But I’ll tell y’ what,’ she said, ‘they’re not half as frightening as the nurses!’ My Gran grasped my arm then and she was gripping it dead tight. And she suddenly looked all pathetic, my Gran. ‘They keep trying to make me have fun!’ she said. ‘They keep trying to give us fun! And it’s all right on my forgetful days, it doesn’t seem to matter then. But then I have days like today and they keep on doing it to me, Raymond, trying to make me have fun.’

  I stroked my Gran’s arm. ‘Well, it’s all right now, Gran,’ I said, ‘because we’re here now and we won’t try and make you have any fun at all, will we, Twink?’

  Twinky shook his head and looked very gravely at my Gran until she looked relieved and reassured and said, ‘You’re good lads, all of you, good lads.’

  Then she looked at Norman again as she said, ‘And I certainly don’t think he’s in much danger of suddenly breaking into fits of frivolity, is he?’

  She called o
ut to Norman then and said, ‘Come on! Come on, Norman! Come on into my room and we’ll all have some Garibaldis.’

  Norman started slowly moving up the corridor towards us then. And my Gran waited. And when Norman got to us, my Gran reached out and took hold of his arm. I could see that it was difficult for Norman and he didn’t even like an old person touching him. But he didn’t try and move his arm away. And as my Gran held onto him, she turned to me and Twinky and said, ‘You shouldn’t laugh at Norman, y’ know; just because he doesn’t like to be around old persons, you shouldn’t laugh at him.’

  ‘We don’t, Gran,’ I said. ‘We’d never laugh at Norman.’

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t,’ my Gran said, ‘because he’s right to be frightened, Norman is. And do you know why?’ she asked me and Twink. ‘Do you know why it makes him scared to be in a place like this?’

  Me and Twinky just shook our heads.

  ‘Because Norman can feel it,’ my Gran said, ‘feel it all around him.’

  ‘Feel what, Gran?’ I said. ‘What can Norman feel?’

  ‘Death!’ my Gran said. ‘Death!’

  Me and Twinky just stood there, staring at my Gran. But my Gran nodded and said, ‘Oh it’s everywhere! In a place like this, it’s in the walls, it’s in the air, it’s everywhere. And that’s why Norman’s so frightened and uncomfortable. Isn’t that right, Norman?’

  Norman stared down at my Gran. And then slowly started nodding his head. And my Gran said, ‘Of course it is. And who can blame y’,’ she said. ‘A young lad like you, brimful of life. You’ve got every right in the world to be afeared, Norman. Who wants to be with the almost-done and the soon-to-be-departed when you’re young and teeming with life like you young lads? And when you’re your age,’ my Gran said, ‘death’s nowt but a bloody bastard, is he?’