No Wonder I Take a Drink

by Laura Marney

  I thought it was a pretty good letter and it did seem to do the trick. Bob phoned me three days later.

  ‘You really know how to apologise.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I was being sarcastic.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Anyway. It doesn’t matter. I’ve rung to tell you that I’ve forgiven you.’

  This was the first time Bob had been civil to me since he came round on my birthday. It was a great relief.

  ‘Thanks Bob. I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to cause all this trouble.’

  ‘I can hear a proper apology now. I can hear it in your voice.’

  ‘It’s all my fault. I feel really terrible…’

  ‘It’s okay. It’s gone. I’ve released it.’

  ‘What do you mean Bob?’

  ‘Well, I’ve freed myself of the anger, for my own sake, and I’m feeling the benefits.’

  ‘That’s great Bob.’

  I had no idea what he was talking about.

  ‘When I think about that bedroom wallpaper I say to myself, I release, I let go and let God.’

  ‘Are you okay Bob?’

  He laughed at that.

  ‘You think because I’ve mentioned the word ‘God’ there’s something wrong? Actually something’s right for a change. Helga lent me a book and I discovered that by staying angry with you I was only making myself miserable. So, I let it go.’

  ‘So Helga, a mere woman, is actually cleverer than you? Surely not.’

  Bob laughed again and he wasn’t forcing it.

  ‘I think you’re right Trisha.’

  ‘Anyway, I’m sorry for causing an atmosphere between you and Steven. I’m worried about how much you two are fighting. I feel responsible.’

  ‘No. Steven and I aren’t fighting, we’re working things through. He’s made life difficult here Trisha let me tell you, but I’m learning to release.’

  He boffed on for another twenty minutes about God and letting go and all that shit. I let him get it off his chest. The main thing was we were talking again, this would maybe take the heat off Steven.

  ‘Anyway, I’m glad we’re friends again but Bob, just to set the record straight I hope you remember: It was me who wrote to you. I released before you did.’

  *

  Steven phoned the next night full of the joys of springtime. He got 63 per cent in a maths exam. Bob was delighted, Steven and Bob were getting on great.

  ‘Sixty-three per cent? That’s fantastic, Son.’

  ‘Second-top mark in the class. Chris Henderson got 87 per cent but he’s a maths genius. The guy’s a total boffin.’

  ‘With results like that your maths tutor is earning his money.’

  ‘Hey, it was me that sat the exam!’

  ‘I know, I know. Credit where credit’s due, you did well Steven.’

  ‘Well Helga helped as well.’

  ‘Helga?’

  ‘Yeah, have you ever heard of mind maps Mum?’

  No I had never heard of mind maps. Some kind of memory tool. Helga had shown him how to make a map of his knowledge of maths. He was now making maps, with Helga’s help, for all his subjects.

  ‘It’s mad Mum. It doesn’t feel like homework, it’s like primary two. We’re colouring them in. I put a swastika on my history map and I’ve designed the chemistry one to look like an experiment, I just keep extending it. Helga’s hung them up in the kitchen, it looks really cool.’

  Steven said he’d send me one of his mind maps to let me see the concept. I think he thought I was somehow jealous of Helga. I got the impression he thought I was annoyed at her being there with him, helping him with his schoolwork, colouring in and having fun. He more or less said so.

  ‘You’re still my mum,’ he said.

  *

  The next day the weather looked all right for a change. I walked to the top of the big hill behind the house without stopping once. I didn’t even walk really, stride or yomp would be a better description. Every time I thought of Helga and her mind maps I yomped a bit harder. What if the maths teacher had made a mistake and misread Steven’s result? Or it was just a lucky fluke? What if, after all the colouring in, all the sticking up round the kitchen, what if after all that the mind maps turned out to be useless? Hah! That would settle her Norwegian hash. I was dizzy when I got to the top.

  I had to lean forward and rest my hands on my knees while I heched and peched to get my breath back. I was a bad person. I was wishing exam failure on my son.

  The view was amazing. The sea and sky and mountains and the lochs looked the way they look on brochures for Bonnie Scotland, humming with colour and life. The clouds scudded across the sky above me as thought they were racing each other, the jaggy mountains only briefly snagging them as they passed. I felt like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music.

  But Julie Andrews was a nice person, she taught the Von Trapp children. By comparison Helga was more like Julie Andrews than me. Thinking about how Helga was taking over my son and how I wasn’t there for him and how Steven was feeling guilty and caught in the middle, was doing my head in. It was ruining the view. Oh fuck it, I thought. Maybe Bob had a point with his releasing.

  Chapter 9

  The weather was changeable. It would rain and dry up and then rain and dry up again. It was wet then dry, warm then cold, windy then calm, bright then cloudy. Eight variables, endless permutations, four seasons a day, every day.

  Jackie was good though, rain or shine he worked hard on my garden. I always felt I had to be matching his efforts. I never smoked in front of him and never missed it. I began to save up the washing and cleaning for the days he came so that I was as industrious as he was. We worked like bees, me in the kitchen and him in the garden. It was difficult to find enough things to do in the house. When I ran out of stuff to scrub I dug out the old cookbooks I’d found and experimented with baking.

  I had to admit that Jenny’s shop was a lifeline. Although her stock was crap, if you placed an order with her, given enough time there was nothing that Jenny couldn’t get. To test her I started asking for fancy ingredients for baking: rice paper, fresh nutmeg, lemon grass. She never let me down. If I’d asked her to get me a kilo of heroin and an Uzi machine gun she would’ve asked what colour did I want the Uzi. Yes it was expensive but I was getting used to paying a higher premium for all things Highland.

  My cooking and baking were coming on a treat. I’d take Jackie out a cup of tea and casually pop a homemade ginger snap on the saucer. When it was too wet to work he came in and hung about in the kitchen while I put the kettle on. The rain gave us both a break. When we stopped for a cuppa it gave me a rest and a blether, although Jackie wasn’t much of a one for idle chit-chat. Maybe he was shy, I thought, but how could a man who was so handsome be that shy? Did I intimidate him in some way, perhaps because I was from Glasgow, the big city?

  ‘Smells good.’

  ‘Och, it’s only a curry. Chicken jalfrezi. I don’t usually bother.’

  ‘I know. Not worth it, cooking for one.’

  ‘Are you the same as me then Jackie, on your own?’

  ‘Aye, the same as yourself.’

  Ah hah! As I suspected. He had never mentioned a wife or family. Married men always mention their wife.

  ‘I’ve made plenty and the meat is as tender as anything, would you like to try it?’

  ‘It smells good all right. I’ve my wee flask with me.’

  ‘It’s not ready yet, it’ll be done in an hour. Why don’t you stay for your tea? It’s daft you sitting on your own in your house and me sitting here. Stay for your tea, you’re more than welcome.’

  ‘Och that’s kind Trixie but I’m…’

  Jackie pointed to his mud-stained jeans and dirty boots.

  ‘Don’t be daft. There’s no dress code in this house.’

  If that was his only objection it was a pretty weak one. Jackie wanted coaxed.

  ‘I’m only sitting here in the kitchen anyway. The same chair as you
sat on for your soup at lunchtime. It’s nothing fancy. Just stay for your tea Jackie, it’ll be good to get some feedback on my curry, I need a second opinion.’

  There was a fine line between coaxing and grovelling and I wasn’t sure if I’d crossed it.

  ‘I’d appreciate the company.’

  I had now.

  ‘Aye okay then. It smells grand. Ready in an hour you say? I’d better get that back hedge finished.’

  Jackie sprinted out the kitchen and away to the back hedge, which he attacked with renewed vigour. He was embarrassed. My cunning plan had worked but now I began to wonder if I’d bullied him. Maybe because I was paying him a few pounds an hour he felt obliged.

  The curry was just about ready but I needed some time. Jackie being all shy about his working clothes had thrown a spanner in the works of my plan. It meant I couldn’t change into my new skirt and top, it would be too obvious. I wouldn’t be able to put on my full face either. I could probably risk a bit of eyeliner and lipstick, men were daft, they didn’t spot the details. He would just think I was a bit flushed, in an attractive way, from my exertions in the kitchen.

  I cracked open a bottle of red wine to let it breathe before I went upstairs to get washed. It had been a long time since I had seduced a man unless I counted that horrible embarrassment with Bob. Thinking of that really did make me flush, not in an attractive way. I decided a wee steadier was in order and poured myself a glass of wine.

  I couldn’t risk a shower, Jackie might hear the water running so I made do with a silent stand-up wash at the sink. I picked out a matching bra and pants, the only matching set I had, newly bought for coming north. During Mum’s illness, co-ordinated underwear had been low priority. The undies weren’t very sexy, yellow with a lilac trim, but with Easter approaching at least they were seasonal. At least they weren’t thousand-wash grey like the rest of my scants. Outwardly I’d have to keep on the blouse and jeans I’d had on all day.

  I turned up the radiators to make the place cosy. With the house a bit warmer my baggy old cardi could go and I undid the top button of my blouse. I undid the next button as well. Hadn’t I been working all day in a hot kitchen, what was wrong with cooling off a little? I put a 40-watt bulb in the standard lamp. Likewise with the music. The only thing I had was Barry White but that was too obvious. What was required was something a little less smoochy, more comforting and familiar. Inverfaughie FM would have to do.

  I caught sight of myself in the kitchen mirror. I was looking good. Mature men appreciate an hourglass figure, I told myself. Rehearsing a Marylyn Munroe type giggle, I leaned forward slightly and realised I’d have to rethink the second button. Two buttons was a button too far. With this kind of cleavage, when I bent over to take the bhajis out of the oven Jackie could lose an eye. I did up the second button again.

  If Jackie was interested he’d let me know and that would be fine. And if he wasn’t, that would be fine too. We would still be friends. He was the only friend I had here, I wasn’t going to blow it by throwing myself at him. A wee dab of perfume, there was no law against it. He’d be lucky to get a whiff of it anyway amongst the garlic and onions of the jalfrezi.

  Everything was ready. I put the lipstick on and carefully blotted it off again, three or four times. A professional beautician would’ve had trouble spotting it, never mind a man. It just looked like I had naturally tinted lips. I set the table, drained my wineglass, poured another wee one, downed it, then I called him in.

  Chapter 10

  Ten minutes into the Chicken jalfrezi the phone rang. The first phone call wasn’t too bad. I was pretty focused on entertaining Jackie so I didn’t think anything of it. Bob asked me for the phone number of Steven’s pal. I didn’t know it off the top of my head but I told him Gerry’s second name and where he lived. He could get the number out of the book. At that point I was more bothered by the fact that Jackie didn’t want wine.

  ‘I could nip down to Jenny’s and get some beer if you like Jackie, I’ll just catch her if I go now.’

  ‘Och no, don’t be silly. You have your wine, I’m happy with a drink of water.’

  I set out a jug of water and he filled his glass frequently. The jalfrezi was a lot hotter than I’d intended it to be. There was no conversation, only the noises of us carefully negotiating the blistering curry, Jackie gulping water and me gulping wine. Then the phone rang again.

  ‘Steven didn’t come home from school. I finally got a hold of Gerry Thompson and he says Steven wasn’t at school today.’

  ‘Phone the police Bob, right now.’

  ‘I have. I phoned them before I phoned you.’

  ‘Have you tried his other pals? What about James and Christopher? And Paul, maybe he’s at Paul’s.’

  ‘I’ve phoned all of them. And the Biggins and the McLeans. Nobody’s seen him. Can you think of anywhere else he might have gone? Any pals I’ve missed? You two have been pretty thick these days on the phone, has he told you something?’

  I racked my brains.

  ‘If he’s dogging school he might have gone swimming or that new pool hall. Maybe the park, or the pictures, have you tried the library?

  ‘He’s not in any of those places.’

  ‘What about the hospitals, oh my God, what if he’s had an accident?’

  ‘He’s definitely not in hospital. I’ve tried them all and they haven’t admitted anyone fitting Steven’s description.’

  ‘Go out and scour the streets! You have to find him Bob!’

  ‘I’m trying! What do you think I’ve been doing? I’ve been driving around since five o’clock. Helga is out now. Someone has to be here in case he comes back. I need to stay here for the police. Helga has her mobile, if she finds him she’ll phone. I’ll let you know right away.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me right away!’

  ‘I didn’t want to panic you. I knew how you’d react. There’s nothing more we can do.’

  I burst out wailing. ‘Well where is he?’

  ‘Calm down, Trisha. I have to get off the phone. I have to keep this line clear. I’ll let you know the minute I hear anything.’

  ‘I’m coming. I’ll be there as quick as I can.’

  ‘No, don’t. Trisha don’t be ridiculous. You must be at least five hours from Glasgow.’

  ‘I’m on my way. Phone me on the mobile if you hear anything, anything. D’you promise Bob?’

  ‘Look, I said I’d phone you, now just sit tight.’

  Sit tight. That was the last thing I was going to do. I ran upstairs and got my fleece and ran back down again pulling it over my head. On the way back down I tripped on the last stair but two hands caught me.

  ‘Oh Jackie!’

  I had forgotten all about him.

  ‘I’m really sorry Jackie but I have to go out. I have to go to Glasgow.’

  ‘I know. I heard you, is it your boy?’

  ‘Yes, he didn’t go to school and Bob can’t find him anywhere. He’s called the police. I have to find him. Maybe he’s been knocked down or mugged or something. He could be lying bleeding somewhere…’

  I found myself babbling and crying and it was the most natural thing in the world when Jackie put his arms around me. He hugged me tight as if he was trying to protect me. It felt good but I was in a hurry, I had no time for tears. With Jackie trailing behind me I rushed through to the kitchen to search out my car keys and handbag.

  ‘Finish your curry Jackie and help yourself to pudding. Is it all right if you let yourself out?’

  ‘You’re not thinking of driving are you?’

  ‘Yes. Sorry Jackie, I’ll have to go right away.’

  ‘How much of that wine have you had? You must have had half the bottle.’

  I hadn’t thought about that. We both looked towards the wine bottle on the table. There was less than a quarter of it left.

  ‘I’ll be fine Jackie. The shock has sobered me up.’

  Jackie saw the car keys before I did and his big hand closed over th
em.

  ‘Ah now Trixie, I know it’s urgent. But think for a minute. You feel sober but the wine is still in your system. You don’t know that Inverness road very well. It’s a cold and lonely place to have an accident. And that’ll not do Steven any good, you in hospital or worse.’

  I knew he was trying to be kind and what he was saying probably made sense but it was none of his business. He was only the fucking gardener, part-time at that and he was withholding my car keys.

  ‘Give me the keys Jackie.’

  I think Jackie surprised us both.

  ‘No! You’re not driving that car!’

  It was too much for me, I started greeting again. I approached him and tried to take the keys out of his hand. He held his closed fist up high where I couldn’t reach. I pushed myself at him trying to reach the keys and when I couldn’t I punched his chest.

  ‘I’ll drive,’ he said quietly.

  *

  Jackie was right about the road. I hadn’t remembered it being so twisty. But then it was daylight when I had driven up here. Now it was pitch black. The only light came from the dashboard and I could see the concentration on Jackie’s face as he swivelled the steering wheel into the frequent bends. It was as if he was playing an arcade game. I didn’t speak to him, that might slow him down.

  I phoned Bob to make sure he had my correct mobile number and told him I was on the road. He hadn’t heard from Steven or Helga or the police. I phoned again ten minutes later but still there was no news. Fifteen minutes later I called again and when I asked, Bob just went, ‘No!’ and slammed the phone down. A wee while later, another fifteen minutes, I started to dial again. Without taking his eyes off the road Jackie put his hand over mine and said, ‘leave it a while yet Trixie, he’ll phone when he hears.’