Closed Doors

by Lisa O'Donnell

When we get home Ma is in the kitchen and she has a suitcase at her side.

  ‘Michael, go to your room,’ says Ma.

  ‘Stay right where you are, son,’ says Da.

  ‘Jesus, Rosemary, if you feel that strongly about it,’ sighs Granny.

  ‘It’s not that, it’s all of you. I can’t stay here any more,’ cries Ma.

  ‘Is it because I crossed myself?’ I ask.

  ‘No, Michael, it’s not because of you. It’s everything. I can’t take it any more,’ says Ma. She sounds sort of wobbly in her voice and she doesn’t look anyone in the eye.

  ‘Rosemary, are you all right?’ whispers Da.

  ‘I have a friend in Greenock who says I can stay with her,’ says Ma.

  I can hardly breathe.

  ‘Ma, I won’t go to church. I swear I won’t. I was just playing around,’ I say.

  ‘It’s not about the church, Michael. I have to get out of here. Please understand,’ cries Ma.

  ‘Is it because you were raped?’ I spit.

  The room stills. Ma whitens.

  ‘Who have you been talking to?’ says Ma.

  ‘No one,’ I cry.

  She suddenly grabs at my shoulders.

  ‘I said, who have you been talking to?’ she yells.

  ‘You’re hurting me,’ I scream.

  ‘Let him go,’ cries Da.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ma, I’m sorry.’

  She slaps me. Everything sharpens. She slaps me again.

  ‘Rosemary,’ cries Da and pulls her away from me. She slides to the floor and cries out.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I’m sorry.’

  I reach for my ma and I hold her tight, but she won’t put her arms around me.

  ‘You’re not supposed to know,’ she cries. ‘You’re not supposed to know.’

  ‘Ma,’ I cry.

  ‘Get him away from me,’ she screams.

  She doesn’t want me. My ma doesn’t want me. She starts banging her fists into the floor. My ma is hurting herself.

  ‘I’m calling the doctor,’ says Da. Granny nods.

  I run to my room. I don’t want to see what happens next. I don’t want to hear any more words or screams. I don’t want to see my ma hate me.

  After the doorbell rings there is a rumble of voices and it goes on for a long time. I know it is over when my da comes into my room. I have turned the lights out.

  ‘Michael,’ he says.

  I am pretending I am asleep, but it is my da and I can’t lie to him.

  ‘Is Ma all right?’ I ask.

  ‘She’s not herself, Michael, because of the rape.’

  ‘It’s a terrible thing to have happened to my ma,’ I cry.

  ‘Who told you?’ asks Da.

  ‘I guessed,’ I say. Even though I needed my dictionary, even though they lied.

  ‘I’m sorry he got my ma,’ I say.

  ‘Me too,’ he says.

  ‘Will they catch him, Da?’ I say.

  ‘I hope to God they do,’ says Da.

  ‘What about Ma?’ I ask.

  ‘The doctor gave her something and she’s asleep now,’ says Da.

  ‘We have to tell the truth, Da,’ I say.

  ‘We can’t. No one in this town can know the truth. Can you do that for your ma, Michael? Can you keep a secret?’ says Da.

  I nod my head. I am the best at keeping secrets in the whole town. I am better than James Bond.

  ‘It’s not your fault, son, and I’m glad you know,’ says Da.

  ‘Does Ma not like me any more?’ I ask.

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Michael. She’s your ma and she will love you all her days,’ says Da.

  ‘Can I make her something nice?’ I say.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘A key holder. I’m making one in school,’ I say.

  ‘A key holder would be lovely,’ says Da.

  I can tell Da doesn’t want to leave. I don’t know what he’s going to do and so I just make ready to sleep. I am not at all surprised when he lies next to me. I expect him to. He is very sad, sadder than I have ever seen him. He sleeps before I do. I don’t like the smell of his breath. It doesn’t smell of beer but something else. It is a strong smell and it came from the bottle in the larder where Granny keeps the giant bags of flour and sugar. Granny hides it there and then shakes her head when Da pours from it.

  ‘It’s the hard stuff he’s after now,’ says Granny. I know she means vodka and whisky.

  My da is sad, my granny is sad. We are all afraid and I pray for my ma to get better.

  TWENTY-ONE

  MA HAS NEW medicines and they make her feel better. She is quiet. Everyone is quiet.

  No one says, ‘Not in front of the boy’ any more, and I get to listen to anything I want these days, so long as I am silent and make them forget I am standing there, but it’s not as good as spying. I liked to spy. I always knew stuff they didn’t want me to know and it made me feel good.

  Last week in the kitchen Granny started in with the crying. I was standing outside the door and glad to be, I hate to hear the crying, you mostly have to be quiet when people cry and it’s all everyone does in this house. I am lucky I don’t live in a swimming pool.

  ‘What’s the matter, Ma?’ says Da.

  ‘The gossip, Brian. I can’t stand it. They think all kinds of things about you and Rosemary.’

  ‘They’ll find something new to talk about in no time.’

  ‘They still think you did something to her, you know. They think you’re a hard man in your house and hurt your family in some way.’

  ‘Let them think what they want,’ says Da. ‘The important thing is Rosemary is getting on and feeling better again. It’s all that matters to me.’

  ‘Do you still think she wants to leave us?’ Granny asks.

  That’s when I get caught by Ma, hovering at the kitchen door.

  ‘You going in or out, Michael?’ she asks.

  ‘In,’ I say.

  Ma goes over to Da and kisses his head.

  ‘I never wanted to leave. I was just havering, Shirley,’ says Ma.

  Da goes as red as a berry but you can tell he’s thrilled to bits he’s had a wee peck from Ma. Ma pours herself a cup of tea at the stove and helps herself to Granny’s fags; she hasn’t done this in a long time and we are all shocked to death. The Wally dogs will just have to go yellow again.

  Tricia Law still comes to the house, and though she is quiet with Da, she is always made up to see Ma. Ma is still strange with me but has started smiling and says she is coming to the talent show, but I think the talent show might be ruined now and it will be Christmas before anyone gets to sing anything. School has already started and Halloween is around the corner and who wants to sit on their arses freezing to death watching kids singing and dancing?

  Da and I took Frankie for a walk round the loch last week and Ma came behind us in her big coat with the furry hood. She looks good, but she still has the sadness in her eyes, I don’t think it will ever go away, maybe it isn’t supposed to. It was nice she came with us though. Da was really happy. He gave her Frankie’s lead to hold and we went round the loch. I didn’t say too much but she asked me a lot of questions about school and Halloween. What I was going to dress up in and so on. I told her a soldier. She smiled. She must love soldiers. Da said I should go as Rambo.

  ‘He’d freeze to death being Rambo; the man doesn’t have a stitch on him. A soldier is ideal. I’ll get you a cap from the mainland.’

  ‘I’ll give you the money, Rosemary.’

  Ma loves it when Da is generous with his cash. I think she thinks it means he loves her more or something. Sometimes when I share my sweets from the van people think you’re really nice, but you only give your sweets if the person you are sharing with promises to share their sweets when they get money. If you don’t there are fights and long faces and terrible grudges. Granny only gives to family. ‘Never a lender or a borrower be,’ says Granny.

  ‘She’s right,’
says Da. ‘Family first, remember that, Michael.’

  Dirty Alice always has money for the van because Miss Connor always gives it to her. She’s not so dirty these days either and I might change her name to Alice again, but I’m only thinking about it, she still falls about all over the place making herself dirty sometimes. Ma says Alice is a magnet for filth, but she’s getting better and nicer these days. She gave me some penny dainties last week, just offered them and for no reason whatsoever. ‘Do you want some dainties, Michael?’ she said. For a minute I thought she might have licked them and put the wrappers back on or something disgusting like that, but they looked brand new and so I took them and said thank you, though it was a big surprise. She even said ‘See you later’ and bounced back home. I was shocked to death.

  Dirty Alice’s da and Miss Connor are getting married soon and Dirty Alice has had to clean her act up because she is to be a bridesmaid. Luke is to be the best man and Da has been asked to be an usher. He was so pleased. I don’t think Mr McFadden has many friends. Neither does Miss Connor but they have relatives from far away. That’s what Granny says.

  ‘It’s going to be a big thing,’ says Granny, who has already seen the dress and is pulling it in a bit at the back for Miss Connor, who wants to be the most beautiful bride there ever was.

  ‘She’s as skinny as a rake that one, you could play a tune on her ribcage,’ says Granny. ‘It’s going to be some amount of work, this dress,’ but that’s what Granny always says when she does favours for people so they are more thankful; Granny loves it when people are thankful.

  Tricia Law is not invited because of the show she put on at the engagement party. This pleased Marianne’s ma and she gave Miss Connor a beautiful tea set as a wedding present.

  ‘Very expensive,’ says Granny. ‘Very expensive.’

  ‘Amounted to a pretty penny for Rab no doubt, but that’s the cost of shame,’ says Da.

  ‘Rab’s a bastard. He told Tricia a lot of lies, made promises he shouldn’t have. There’s more to the story than meets the eye,’ says Ma.

  ‘You’re probably right, Rosemary,’ says Da and gives her a nice smile. They agree about lots of things these days and Da is fixing up the garden just like he promised.

  It was a nice day to be taking Frankie for a walk, a bit cold, but it was a fresh cold and you could breathe in nice air and smell the lovely flowers. I wanted to pick one for Ma but it would have been daft and she might not have liked it really. She might have thought I was doing it because of what happened in the park.

  ‘Do you want to hold the dog, Michael?’ says Ma.

  ‘Sure, Ma. Are you tired?’ I say.

  ‘A little bit,’ says Ma.

  And then she takes Da’s arm. He took it no problem. It was a miracle. Granny says she is taking new pills now, not sleeping pills, but pills to cheer her up. Granny says Ma is still fragile.

  ‘She is depressed, Michael, and it is a terrible thing to be depressed. You’re not to tell anyone,’ says Granny.

  I sigh. More secrets, I think. I’m getting tired of them, but I’m glad the pills make Ma want to be nice to Da again and maybe me.

  Halfway round the loch Da does a funny thing, he suggests we walk back the way we came. This is not what we usually do but then I remember the park and how we have to pass it by and so does Ma. I see the gloom cross her face, just like it did when we were berry-picking. I think she is going to shout at us all and stomp off to somewhere and pack up her bags to Greenock again, but she doesn’t, she turns to Da and says, ‘I think that’s a good idea, Brian,’ and so we turn around and go back home all topsy-turvy. Da takes Ma’s arm and promises to take me fishing again, but he never will.

  Later in the day we go home for our dinner and Granny makes a big thing with sausages and eggs and bacon and fried bread. It’s my favourite breakfast and to have it for dinner is very special. I like to have a cup of tea with it and Granny wants to use the china cups and so I am sent to the cabinet in the living room. I have to be quiet though because Ma is having a nap. The curtains in the front room are closed and the room is dark. I don’t make a sound but Ma does.

  ‘Michael,’ she whispers.

  ‘Yes, Ma. Did I wake you? I’m sorry,’ I say.

  ‘Don’t be sorry,’ she says.

  I get the cups.

  ‘Michael,’ she says again. ‘Sit with me for a minute.’

  And so I sit at the bottom of the sofa, but I don’t want to.

  ‘You know I never meant to hurt you that time,’ she says.

  ‘I know, Ma. You were not yourself,’ I say. ‘Da told me. Can I go now?’

  ‘In a minute,’ she says. ‘You know, Michael, right now I’m in a bad way, but I’ll get better, I promise,’ she says.

  I nod because I don’t know what else to do.

  ‘Can I go now?’ I ask.

  ‘Give your ma a hug,’ she asks and she sits up on the sofa.

  At first I don’t want to but I can’t say no to her and so we hug. I lay my head against her chest and she brushes my hair with her hand. Granny yells for her cups.

  ‘You’re a good boy, Michael,’ Ma says and lies back down on the sofa and goes straight to sleep.

  TWENTY-TWO

  MR MCFADDEN AND Miss Connor are having a Christmas wedding. She will wear a dress with a bit of fur over her shoulders given to her by my granny because as things turn out Granny also had a Christmas wedding. Miss Connor was made up. She gave Granny a bunch of flowers and Granny nearly fainted she was so pleased. We had them in a vase in the middle of the kitchen table for everyone to smoke over. I didn’t think it was fair to the lovely petals but no one cares, they want to smoke and so they will.

  Everyone on the scheme is going to be at this wedding. They are already buying dresses and shoes and bags, even though it is only October, even Marianne is excited and smiling again. She has been asked to sing in the church. She has chosen Ave Maria because that’s what everyone sings at weddings. Dirty Alice is to read a passage about Love, and Luke is to stand still and hold rings for the bride and groom.

  ‘It will be very romantic,’ says Marianne.

  ‘Yes it will,’ says Dirty Alice, who has definitely changed her tune about Miss Connor, probably because of all the ice-cream money she’s getting.

  ‘Are you going to call her Ma?’ I ask.

  ‘Shut up,’ snips Dirty Alice, who wears braids now and all kinds of things in her hair. I saw it wavy the other day, all the girls liked it and now they want the same for their stupid hair.

  ‘Well, are you?’ I ask.

  ‘I’ve to call her Louisa until I feel comfortable,’ says Dirty Alice.

  ‘Not Stepmother?’ I say and smirk a little. I’m trying to annoy her. I don’t know why.

  That’s when Dirty Alice throws a clump of wet dirt into my face. It’s heavy and it slaps right against my eye and I fall backwards onto my arse. I want to kill her for it but my face is all muddy and I can’t see a thing. Next thing she is on top of me and slapping the face off me and calling me all kinds of names. I don’t know who pulls her off me but I can hear she is crying and that she hates me more than anyone in the entire world. I feel a bit wobbly on my feet and I want to get up and give her a good thumping but she’s taken away by Luke. I see him look back at me. He doesn’t look happy.

  Marianne says, and not very nicely, ‘Alice gave you a right smack, didn’t she?’

  I don’t say anything. I know she is trying to make me feel like I’m not tough any more. A dangerous game to play considering what I know about her fanny. I could tell everyone.

  ‘Alice backstabbed me. I didn’t get a chance to defend myself. I was blinded by the dirt,’ I say.

  Paul MacDonald and Fat Ralph agree. ‘It wasn’t a fair fight. Alice is a girl and you can’t hit girls back. She’s dead lucky he didn’t fight her cause he’d have kicked her arse into next week.’

  I nod and at the same time I’m pleased Paul and Fat Ralph have stood by me.

&
nbsp; ‘Alice beat the crap out of him,’ says Tracey. ‘We all saw. Girls can fight as tough as boys.’

  ‘No they can’t,’ I say. All of a sudden I’m thinking of Ma being beaten by the rapist and I feel so bad I just want away from these stupid girls and their stupid words and their stupid faces.

  ‘Who wants to go to the Woody?’ says Fat Ralph.

  The girls shake their heads. They always shake their heads when you talk about the Woody.

  ‘What’s the matter, you too scared?’ says Paul and then he laughs at them. ‘Come on, lads. Let’s leave these tough ladies to tremble in their dirty little socks.’

  It was a funny thing to say and I laugh loudest, wishing I had said it. The girls are angry and want to say something clever back but they can’t because girls aren’t funny.

  ‘If you think you’re doing the talent show now, you’re joking yourself,’ yells Marianne.

  ‘Stick your talent show up your arse, Marianne,’ I say. ‘You’ll never have one anyway and everybody knows it, you’ve been saying you’ll have one for years and you never do. It’s just an excuse so you can show off your stupid singing and dancing in the car park.’ Marianne starts to cry and the girls crowd round her, patting her on the shoulder. I don’t care about Marianne Cameron any more; her eyeballs can explode with tears for all I care. She’s a dirty filthy girl. I wish I could tell the lads what she did, then they would think I was the best man in the entire Woody for seeing a girl’s bits. But then Marianne might tell them how I ran away and I don’t want any of the boys knowing I ran away from anyone’s fanny. I would never live it down.

  When we get to the Woody Paul and Fat Ralph want to look at nudey magazines but I don’t feel like it and anyway Luke shows up with his hands on his hips like Granny does when she’s about to go mad about something.

  ‘Michael Murray, you come here right now,’ he says.

  I know he’s going to want to fight me and I really don’t want to fight Luke because I would win and all the grown-ups would go mad at me for hurting the best boy in the entire world.

  ‘You leave my sister alone, do you hear?’ says Luke.

  ‘She threw a clump of mud at my eye and then she jumped on top of me. She should leave me alone. She’s a pain, your sister.’