Too Close to Home

by Aoife Walsh

  Nita put her face in her hands. ‘Look, Minny,’ she said through them, to the floor, ‘I don’t ask you to be my eyes and ears at school. That’s quite difficult for me.’ She sounded all rational. ‘Because I can’t rely on getting any information at all from Ash, however vital it is. But I respect that you have your life and that school has rules, so I try on the whole to leave you alone. But you’ve got to understand a bit more what’s going on here. I spend my whole life trying to build up your sister’s self-esteem, because I’m afraid of what will happen to her. Sometimes I just need you to reach your hand out to her and help make things a little bit easier.’

  Sometimes Minny got sick of it all at once, her life. Besides, she hated being told off. ‘No one else has to look after their sister, their older sister,’ she burst out. ‘It’s not fair.’

  Nita stood up and started dusting the top of the ridiculous aquarium-like gas heater with her fingers. ‘Oh yes, because you’re the one getting the raw deal,’ she said. ‘I suppose you think Ash did something to deserve it—’

  ‘No.’

  ‘– and that you’re paying the penalty for that. Listen, her autism affects us all – that’s just the way it is. I know we’re all struggling with stuff at the moment, and if I could do anything about that I would. Things could be a lot worse, maybe they could be better – they could certainly be easier – but this is our life.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I get tired and curse things too, you know, especially your bloody father who left me to pick up the slack on my own and is adding to my problems today. I’ve got a seven-year-old girl upstairs who cried herself to sleep because her dad didn’t call her to say goodnight.’

  Minny wiped her nose. ‘Selena’s all right, she’s just a drama queen. At least it gives her something to offer up to God.’

  Her mother didn’t laugh; she didn’t say anything for a minute but just looked at her thoughtfully. ‘You’re very hard sometimes. Your grandmother says it’s your age, but I wonder.’

  She never got this, these kind of stern and disappointed looks, not from her mother. She found she couldn’t shut up. ‘At least you’ve always got Babi and her homespun wisdom to help you out; things could be worse.’

  ‘That’s the other thing I’ve got tired of lately.’ Nita was on her way out of the door. ‘Stop all the snarky digs about your grandmother. She may not spoil you, but she’s vital to our lives and she saved us by letting us come to live here. So show her some respect, and stop groaning every time she has a friend round. I won’t have you making her feel uncomfortable in what is still her home.’

  Minny didn’t sleep very well. Raymond was normally pretty good at night, but something must have woken him up because she heard him yowling at about two. With Babi not having come home, she thought it was quite likely that everyone in the house cried that night.

  Wednesday was all subdued. Minny’s face felt as if she’d washed it with soap and not rinsed it, and no one was talking much. She didn’t say anything about it to her mother, but she asked Aisling if she would wait a few minutes so they could walk to school together again.

  Penny was a bit weird that day. She asked them on the walk in if they’d seen Franklin again, which considering that Minny had been at her house till dinner time the previous evening, Minny considered little short of psychic. Aisling happily told her about bumping into him, and him coming round to sing.

  ‘To sing? Sing what?’

  ‘Some country songs,’ Ash said.

  ‘Country?’

  ‘Yes,’ Minny said, imitating the tone of her voice. ‘I told you you were missing out.’

  ‘What does he know about country?’

  ‘Quite a lot.’

  ‘He heard it round at our house,’ Ash explained. ‘When we were little.’

  Penny immediately pulled an extreme face. ‘That’s a bit creepy.’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Penny.’

  ‘Well, it is. I didn’t know you liked singing,’ she said to Aisling.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘We should do more music,’ she added to Minny. Once they’d had a plan that they would form a band when they were a bit older and knew some more people who played the right kinds of instruments. They used to practise sometimes. But Minny got tired of it because all it meant was her strumming in the background, badly, while Penny sang awful songs over and over again with one hand to her ear as if she was in a recording studio, so she was happy enough when it tailed off.

  ‘Well,’ she said now, ‘let me know when you’ve got five minutes off from Jorge.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Oh, nothing.’

  ‘You’ve got a bit of a problem with Jorge, haven’t you?’

  ‘I don’t even know him, Pen.’

  ‘Yes, you do, Minny. You’ve met him loads of times.’

  ‘Well, I suppose I mean we haven’t bared our souls to each other in big sweaty bonding sessions then.’ He hadn’t said more than three words to her, or looked at her with even the slightest glimmer of interest.

  ‘At least he’s …’

  ‘What?’ Minny said. Penny flushed, and she wondered what she could possibly have been about to say. ‘At least he’s what, Penny?’

  ‘At least he knows how to behave.’

  ‘Who?’ Aisling asked with interest.

  ‘As opposed to me?’ Minny asked.

  ‘As opposed to your new … friend.’

  ‘What, Franklin? What are you on about? Are you still harking back to when we were little kids?’

  ‘We’re going to be late,’ Aisling said with sudden panic. She was used to getting in early, before the rush began.

  ‘We’re fine.’

  ‘No, no. Life is like a train,’ she buzzed. ‘You need to make sure you get to the station on time.’ That was another one off that daft blackboard; her mother had used it for years as a way to get Ash to understand similes, and now they popped out of her at odd times.

  ‘Come on then,’ Penny said, ‘let’s run. I need to finish my French anyway.’

  She was peculiar all the rest of the week. School was stressful enough at the moment since not even English was fun any more, and Minny could have done without Penny’s odd vibes; she found herself trying to avoid anything that could possibly lead to the mention of Franklin’s name. Annoying, and impossible when Ash was around. And Minny tried to keep her around. She had little rambles around the school at break times, till she’d located Aisling, and even passed half an hour in the library with her at lunch. She didn’t explain it to Penny, who kept wondering, aloud, where she was hiding herself. On Thursday at break she grabbed Minny and ordered her to come and eat with her and Jorge at lunchtime. ‘Fine,’ Minny said, ‘but I’ll have to bring Aisling. I said I’d meet her.’

  Penny looked at her oddly. ‘Where are you off to now? The bell’s about to go.’

  ‘I’m just making sure Ash is OK. You don’t have to come.’

  ‘I’m just asking, why today?’

  ‘My mum asked me to.’

  ‘Yeah? Is she guilting you out a bit?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘She can’t expect you to give up your own life or whatever to look after other people.’

  ‘Look, I’m just … keeping an eye on her at the moment, that’s all.’ They rounded a corner and saw Ash in the corridor, talking to Franklin. ‘Oh. Well. She looks OK right now.’

  ‘No, no,’ Penny said, marching on, ‘let’s check.’

  They were talking about maths. In some ways school should have been the perfect place for Ash, Minny thought, since it was actually meant to be about learning and everything, but not even the teachers seemed to have the imagination to get on her wavelength enough to teach her properly, let alone have a conversation. Instead she was just a target. Minny felt a wave of really violent liking for Franklin; she didn’t know if he was even into maths himself – it seemed unlikely somehow – but he cared about Aisling enough to drop into
her world for a minute. She was looking all bright-eyed and intelligent, till Penny walked up to them and started being breezy.

  ‘So, that’s so interesting,’ Penny said as Aisling finished a sentence about proofs and infinite numbers of primes. ‘And you haven’t told me anything about American politics in ages, Aisling, I feel really uninformed.’

  The bell went over her last word. Ash stood on her toes, poised and paralysed between her inner timetable and the temptation to talk about the House of Representatives. ‘I’ve got to get my book before English.’

  ‘Well, go on then,’ Minny said irritably. ‘Else you’ll be late.’

  She took off down the corridor.

  ‘Come on, Minny,’ Penny said, taking her arm. ‘We’ll be late for physics.’

  ‘I’ve got to get my books too,’ Minny said, taking it back. ‘I’ll see you there.’

  ‘Your friend’s strange,’ Franklin said, watching her flounce up the stairs.

  ‘Yes, she is. It’s nice that you can talk to Ash about maths. No one else does except my mum.’

  He shrugged. ‘I didn’t understand a word of it. She’s clever.’

  ‘Yeah, she is. At maths.’ Minny turned to go to her locker. ‘See you later.’

  He was still there, holding out a memory stick. ‘I thought you might like these. It’s just a Steve Earle album you don’t have – I looked on your shelves – it’s one of the best, so – and this Ray Stinnett album. And some Bobbie Gentry – seems like your kind of thing maybe.’

  ‘Oh.’ She took it. ‘Thanks very much.’

  ‘Play them to Aisling too.’

  Minny listened to the music he’d given her a lot at home over the next few days. Her mother was out in the evenings, gearing up for her play, so there was no one to notice and say anything sly. Everyone seemed busy; Selena was immersed in her Bible almost all the time. Minny caught her saying the rosary when she leaned over the side of her bed in the morning. She duly mocked her the first time but then let her get on with it; it was too odd for her to want to deal with it. Sel was also strangely affectionate – she kept kissing them all goodnight before she went to bed, and goodbye in the morning, and coming into rooms just to say something before she left again. Ash trailed around after Minny a lot, and on Friday evening came into her room where she was listening to ‘Goodbye’ again, carrying the guitar. ‘I thought you might feel like playing it.’

  ‘Er – why?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’d like to sing more, I thought you’d like to play the guitar.’ She propped it up in the corner and left again. Minny eyed it for a while. When the album finished she turned off the iPod, ready to go downstairs, but instead she picked up the guitar. The thing was, she really hated tuning it. But Franklin had done quite a good job of that.

  They all had plenty to think about anyway because Nita had announced that she’d invited their father and Harriet round for tea on Sunday. So that they could talk in a civilised way about things. She said Minny wasn’t allowed to skip it, though Minny couldn’t see how they wouldn’t be better off without her if they really wanted things patched up.

  ‘If I’m doing this because I think my daughters need a father, it pertains to all my daughters,’ Nita said when she argued.

  ‘But I don’t want one, Mum, not like Selena does. I don’t care about him.’

  ‘Right,’ she said, in an un-Mum-like way, like she couldn’t be bothered being discreet and tactful any more. ‘That’s why you’ve had Kate Bush and David Bowie plastered to your bedroom walls since you were ten years old.’

  That was below the belt. Minny liked Kate Bush. It wasn’t anything to do with the fact that her father used to be obsessed with her. David Bowie, either. She spent all that evening thinking about what if they had to show him their rooms when he came and he thought she had them up there because of him? On the other hand she couldn’t take them down, because then her mother would think whatever she would think. She cut up a bunch of magazines that night and stuck more pictures up so that none of them would stand out so much. It took absolutely ages. It was a shame none of them were of her mother’s favourite singers, but it was hard to find disposable pictures of progressive country artists who’d had their pomp around 1978. Sel lay and watched her. She’d probably tell him they were all new anyway.

  She hadn’t emailed Uncle Kevin since the drama of her father coming back and then appearing outside Selena’s school. Her relationship with Kevin had nothing to do with her father; it never had really, certainly not since he left. She didn’t even know how close they were. It was possible Kevin might not know about his brother being back, and about Harriet and the baby and everything, although she was pretty sure he’d have heard by now from Granny. So late on Friday she tried to send a nice normal email about books and so on, and just mentioned in passing that they were coming for tea. Kevin was always nagging her for gossip about friends and especially about boys, and she never had anything to tell him, so this time, just for fun, she mentioned that she’d been hanging out a bit with someone who was a bit more interesting than usual. She didn’t say it was the boy who was living with Kevin’s mother. When she checked her emails about an hour later she already had a reply. He answered what she’d said but without his usual vim, and then got stuck into things about her father. Apparently she needed to have a more open mind. ‘He may not have been the greatest father for the last few years, Minny, but he is your dad. I’m not saying this for his sake, you know. I think he needs to hear what you have to say, and I think all you girls might be better off having a dad, even if he’s not the most reliable one.’

  Since they were coming on Sunday, of course her mother went nuts cleaning the house as soon as she got home on Saturday morning. As if Des didn’t used to live with them; more to the point as if he hadn’t seen it only a few days ago. ‘Only the downstairs,’ Nita said, polishing the bathroom door handle.

  ‘What are you trying to impress them for?’

  ‘Because I want him to think I’ve done an adequate job as a mother despite not being good enough to be his wife,’ she said. Which took the wind out of Minny’s sails. Her mother didn’t usually say things like that. ‘What are your plans this afternoon?’

  ‘I’m going to the cinema with Penny.’

  ‘OK. Just do me a favour and change your sheets first.’

  Minny hated changing her sheets because, having the top bunk, it was virtually impossible. She had to perch at the top of the ladder and stretch all the way across without resting any weight on the mattress, or she couldn’t get the fitted sheet around the top corners. The phone went downstairs while she was doing it, and she hoped it might be her father ringing up to cancel.

  ‘Change your T-shirt,’ she heard her mother saying as she padded downstairs with her bundle of dirty bedclothes five minutes later. ‘And give your hair a brush.’

  Aisling looked down doubtfully. ‘What T-shirt shall I put on?’

  ‘The blue one,’ Nita suggested. ‘It brings out your eyes.’

  ‘Why does Ash need her eyes bringing out?’ Minny asked, dumping the sheets.

  ‘I’m going round to Granny’s house to see Franklin.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Franklin rang up,’ Nita said, looking flushed and pleased, ‘and asked Ash to go round this afternoon.’

  Minny bent down to put the sheets in the washing machine. ‘Will you come, Minny?’ Aisling said.

  ‘Was I asked?’ Minny didn’t get up or look round.

  ‘I asked if you should come and he said sure.’

  ‘I can’t.’ She stood up. ‘I’m going to the cinema.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Anyway, I’m not like you,’ she said, since her mother had left the kitchen, hoover attachment in hand. ‘I don’t go places I haven’t been invited.’

  Minny and Penny went to see films all the time. It had tradition attached to it. They met in the shop on the corner opposite the cinema and bought a big bag of Minstrels or sometimes a box of
Maltesers, and then they ate nearly all of them during the trailers. Which film it was didn’t matter very much. Sometimes they didn’t even pick until they got there. As it happened, the previous day they’d decided on a cheesy-looking semi-romantic comedy. Minny was just coming up to the shop, sweating from walking so fast over the bridge, when she heard Penny calling her and looked up to see her at the doors of the cinema. With Jorge. She was gussied up, with make-up on and heeled shoes. Minny hadn’t even brushed her hair that day.

  ‘Hello,’ she said warily after crossing the road.

  ‘Hi,’ Jorge said, looking at her hair.

  ‘Jorge wanted to see the film,’ Penny explained, beaming. ‘He likes Katherine Heigl.’ Which seemed like a strange thing to make her happy.

  ‘OK. Have you got the tickets?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Have you got the chocolate though?’

  ‘Oh. We thought we’d get popcorn today.’

  Popcorn. And not even salted popcorn. Overpriced, tongue-irritating butter popcorn. Minny slouched in her seat and tried to ignore the fact that she was blatantly playing gooseberry on someone else’s pervy early-afternoon date rather than playing gooseberry with her mad sister and her new friend – or, she supposed, cleaning the house with her mother and little sister, which had been the other choice.

  ‘I thought you might bring Aisling,’ Penny said to her, coming up for air in the break before the film started.

  ‘I never bring Aisling.’ Minny took another handful of popcorn.

  ‘You’ve been hanging out with her a lot lately though, haven’t you?’

  ‘Well, she’s my sister, Penny.’

  ‘I know.’

  Minny tucked one foot under her. ‘She doesn’t like the cinema.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Minny added suddenly, ‘she’s singing with Franklin today.’