Me Mam. Me Dad. Me

by Duffy, Malcolm;

  ‘She’ll be okay, Danny.’

  ‘You don’t know her, not like me. You don’t know him, you don’t know about domestic violence, you don’t know anything. You just make sandwiches.’

  Stevie looked like he’d been punched.

  He finally came over and put a skinny arm round me.

  ‘What you’re asking for is too much,’ he said, with his smoke breath. ‘It’s got nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Could you sleep at night if you thought someone was hurting Megan?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about this any more, Danny, do you hear me? It’s finished.’

  ‘But what…’

  ‘I said the case is closed.’

  Easy for him to close the case. He didn’t have to go home, waiting for his mam to get bashed to death. He just had to wait for his girlfriend to come back. A lot easier.

  ‘I’m off to bed,’ said Stevie.

  Wanted to cry again, but then I remembered I’d forgotten something. Me mam. Grabbed the phone from me bag and went in the hall.

  Rang Mam’s number. But Mam didn’t answer. FB did.

  ‘Hello,’ he said.

  Hung up dead quick.

  Maybe it was too late. He’d already killed her.

  Twenty-Eight

  • •

  Me mam’s always got her phone on her. Always. She loves that phone. He’s killed her.

  But before I could think what to do, me phone rang. Saw the name. It was her.

  ‘Mam?’

  ‘It’s Callum.’

  His voice made me freeze.

  ‘Why did you hang up, Danny?’ he said, sounding slurry.

  ‘Want to speak to me mam.’

  ‘So you don’t want to speak to me, eh?’

  ‘’Course I do, I just, I just…’ Just what? Think, Danny, think. ‘I just thought you might be busy watching F1.’

  He laughed.

  ‘They don’t have F1 mid-week.’

  Wanted to hang up. But I couldn’t. Not till I knew.

  ‘Where’s me mam?’

  ‘You’re wondering why I’ve got her phone, aren’t you?’

  Clenched a fist.

  ‘Aren’t you?’ he went, getting angry.

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘She’s got no one to call, so she gave it to me.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Said she wanted me to have it, ’cos she loves me so much.’

  ‘Where is she, Callum?’

  ‘The ringtone kept giving her a migraine.’ And he laughed again.

  ‘Please, tell me where she is.’

  ‘Getting a bit anxious, General. Thought the countryside was meant to relax you.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  Silence.

  Stood there listening to me heart, praying that another heart, one down in Gateshead, was still working. Thump, thump, thump.

  Two women killed every week.

  Me guts were screwed up tight like wrong-answer paper. Could hardly breathe, like in the pool in Spain. What’s he done to her?

  Thump, thump, thump. Please, make her okay. Thump, thump, thump.

  Please, God, make her okay, make her okay.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Mam?’

  ‘Yes, what’s up, Danny?’

  ‘Has he hit you?’

  ‘No, I’m fine.’

  Me stomach unscrewed itself.

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘In the kitchen, getting another lager.’

  ‘Why did he have your phone?’

  ‘I must have put it down.’

  ‘Oh, Mam.’

  ‘What did you say to him?’

  Now it was her sounding scared.

  ‘Nothing, Mam, just wanted to know where you were.’

  ‘I was doing the ironing.’

  ‘Why didn’t he tell me that?’

  ‘He was probably just having a joke.’

  ‘He’s the joke, Mam, a sick joke.’

  ‘Please, let’s talk about something else. Are you learning lots of stuff, Danny?’

  Yeah, I’ve learned never to say ‘Dad’ in front of me dad’s girlfriend when she doesn’t know he’s me dad, learned never to ask me dad to kill me mam’s boyfriend, especially when he’s angry with me for losing his girlfriend, learned never to go within a million miles of Scotland, and learned never to hang up when FB answers me mam’s phone. That’s what I’d learned.

  ‘Aye, stuff,’ I grunted.

  ‘I think this experience will do you the world of good.’

  Doubt that very much.

  ‘I’d better get back to the ironing. You’ll call me tomorrow night?’

  ‘’Course. Love you, Mam.’

  ‘Love you too, Danny.’

  I hung up, walked into the flat and put me phone away. Didn’t want to watch telly so I switched off the light and curled up on the sofa. Couldn’t even be bothered to take me clothes off. Just lay there, thinking. Me mountain of problems getting higher and higher.

  Next morning I woke up and saw Stevie standing over me, holding a piece of toast.

  ‘Fancy going to Edinburgh Castle?’

  ‘Thought you didn’t want to be seen with me,’ I said, rubbing me eyes.

  ‘True, but Edinburgh people don’t go to Edinburgh Castle, it’s for grockles.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Tourists. Time I showed you a good old bit of Scottish history.’

  Was that happy me mam was still alive, I’d have gone anywhere.

  Stevie drove into Edinburgh, with me squidged down low. He parked and we walked up a long street made of bricks.

  ‘The Royal Mile,’ said Stevie.

  ‘Why’s it royal?’

  ‘Because lots of kings and queens have been up this road. Not sure how many made it back down.’

  I spotted a gadgie in a skirt with a massive fluffy black hat on his head wearing a tartan uniform and playing the bagpipes. You can’t get more Scots than that. The bagpipes made the weirdest sound I’d ever heard in me life, but people must have liked it ’cos they kept putting money in his box. Unless they were paying him to stop.

  ‘Does he know how to play it?’ I said.

  ‘’Course he knows how to play it. He’s a professional piper.’

  ‘Sounds like he’s squeezing a cat.’

  ‘You’re a numpty,’ said Stevie. And to show that he must have liked the noise the gadgie was making he threw some coins in his box.

  We walked into the castle and Stevie got some tickets. He was right about the grockles. Nobody here seemed to be from Scotland, just gibbering words that made no sense.

  The castle was massive, with great thick walls and loads of rooms full of old stuff. The best bit was the War Museum. Seemed like the Scots had been in loads of battles. Really must like fighting. Scraps all over the place, North America, Sweden, Germany, Africa, India. Stevie was turning Scots, I wonder why he didn’t like fighting? It wasn’t like I was asking him to go to war. All I wanted was him to kill one person.

  Stevie looked sad when he was staring at the pictures of the soldiers who’d died. Maybe that’s what he was worried about, that if he went into battle with FB, he’d die, and he’d never have a life, or get married to Megan, or buy his own sandwich shop.

  We went outside and a gun went off. Bang. Got such a shock I jumped a mile in the air.

  ‘It’s the One O’Clock Gun,’ said Stevie, laughing.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It used to tell ships the time.’

  ‘Didn’t they have watches?’

  ‘Not in those days.’

  ‘They’d tell them it was one o’clock by shooting at them?’

  ‘Don’t be daft, there’s no shell in it.’

  ‘So where are the ships they’re firing at?’ I said, looking out over Edinburgh at the sea.

  ‘They aren’t there any more.’

  Firing a gun with no shell at ships that aren’t there. I tell you, man, it’s a strange place, Scotl
and.

  Stevie seemed dead interested in all the stuff in the castle, the Crown Jewels, the army regiments, the canons, like he was proud of it. I’m not sure I’m that proud of anything in Gateshead. The Sage is quite cool, the Baltic’s okay, and the Angel of the North’s not bad, but apart from that it’s just shops. You can’t be proud of shops.

  When I was standing next to the castle walls me phone went off. I wasn’t expecting a call. I was scared something bad had happened at home. But it wasn’t me mam, it was Amy.

  ‘Hi, Danny.’

  Didn’t think just hearing a voice could make me so happy.

  ‘How you doing, Amy?’

  ‘Canny. How’s your gran?’

  ‘What gran? Oh, that gran, yeah, I think she’s on the mend.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘I thought you weren’t meant to use the phone unless it’s an emergency.’

  ‘This is an emergency. I wanted to speak to you.’

  Grinned.

  ‘What did you tell the teachers?’

  ‘I told Mr Hetherington me mam was ill and I needed to call her.’

  Seems Amy could be every bit as sneaky as me.

  ‘Is Lanky Dave behaving hiself?’ The silence said everything. ‘What’s he been doing?’

  ‘Just the usual.’

  I could picture that face, spitting out those words of his. I wished me arms were two hundred miles long and I could smack him right in the gob. Felt useless.

  ‘Just tell him where to go, Amy, and if he does anything speak to the teachers.’

  ‘I’m okay, Danny. Really, I’m okay.’

  Amy had turned into me mam.

  ‘I’ll sort it when I get back,’ I said.

  ‘Get back? Where are you?’

  ‘I mean, when you get back.’

  ‘I don’t want any more trouble, Danny. If you throw him down the stairs again you’ll get expelled.’

  ‘Leave it with me.’

  ‘Please don’t do anything silly, Danny. I’m fine. Anyway, I’m going to have to go now. We’re going on a boat trip. Love you, Danny.’

  ‘Love you too, Amy.’

  Pause.

  ‘You hang up first.’

  ‘No, you.’

  ‘Let’s do it together. After three. One, two, three.’

  Silence.

  ‘You still there, Amy?’

  ‘Aye.’

  We both laughed.

  ‘I’m really going, Danny.’

  Click.

  And this time she was gone.

  Twenty-Nine

  • •

  Decided not to tell Stevie about the conversation I’d had with Amy. Knew what he’d say. Sort it out yourself.

  After the castle we went up the coast and found a beach with a car park. The wind had dropped and the sea was as flat as a pancake. We grabbed some stones and did skimmers. I was the champion. Sixteen skims to ten.

  ‘You’ve got a strong wee throwing arm,’ he said.

  Was good to get a compliment from him. Better than nothing, I suppose.

  After doing skimmers we walked further up the beach and found a crazy golf course.

  ‘Fancy a shot?’ said Stevie.

  ‘Why aye.’

  We got two dodgy sticks, a scorecard and a couple of balls that looked like they’d been chewed by dogs. I’m not mad on golf, but we had a proper laugh. On hole number four Stevie hit the ball so hard it landed in the car park. I wasn’t much better on number nine. Took me eight shots to get the ball in. Which dafty puts a hole on top of a hill? But I had me revenge on hole twelve, when Stevie took millions to get the ball in the Windmill. He hit the ball so hard it landed on the beach. I made him hit it all the way back to the hole.

  ‘I need a sand iron for this,’ he said, as he tried to putt the ball back across the beach.

  Couldn’t stop laughing.

  We finished on the Dragon’s Castle, a dead tricky hole where you had to get the ball down a tunnel and over a drawbridge. We both took tons of goes, but finally managed it. Stevie took the sticks and balls back. It started to drizzle, so we sheltered under the golf hut while Stevie totted up the scores.

  ‘The result of the World Crazy Golf Tournament… Stevie – ninety-seven, Danny – eighty-three.’

  ‘Well done,’ I said, all grumpy like.

  ‘What do you mean “well done”, you stupid wee bampot? You won. The one with the lowest score in golf wins.’

  ‘Get in,’ I said, and did a little jig, like I’d seen a golfer do on telly.

  I’d had a good day with Stevie. Just wished he’d do what I wanted. But I also wished something else. I wished Stevie hadn’t got sent to Edinburgh and had stayed on Tyneside so I could see him any time I liked. He wouldn’t be Stevie any more, he’d be me dad, me proper dad. That’s what I wished.

  As he drove back I had a question for him.

  ‘Would you and me mam ever get back together?’

  ‘There’s more chance of the Pope supporting Rangers.’

  No idea what that meant but guessed it was a no.

  ‘Anyway, I’ve got Megan, and your mam’s got a fiancé.’

  ‘Who hits her.’

  ‘Will you please stop talking about that nut-job? I am not going to do anything to him. Get her to speak to someone.’

  He had no idea. She wouldn’t even speak to me about it.

  Decided not to waste any more words on it.

  When we got back to Stevie’s flat I called me mam. She answered straightaway. Which was good. But she was mortal. Which wasn’t.

  ‘How’s my gorgeous Danny boy?’

  ‘Alreet, Mam.’

  ‘Love you. Wish I could give yus a massive greet big huggy hug.’

  It was only half-seven. She must have been drinking from the minute she got in.

  ‘Do you want to know what the weather’s been like?’ I said. Had the right paper open at the right page.

  ‘Not really, Danny. Weather’s even more boring than football.’ Then me mam started hiccupping. ‘Wash been happening?’

  ‘Blow into a bag, Mam.’

  ‘You’re talking nonsense, Danny. You been drinkin’ an all?’

  Hated it when me mam got like this. Hated it even more knowing that FB was nearby, probably even more mortal.

  Hiccup.

  ‘Try and hold your breath, Mam.’

  ‘I’m not at the baths, Danny. I hate swimming, me.’

  ‘You’ve got the hiccups, Mam.’

  Hiccup.

  ‘Oh, yeah, so I have.

  Hiccup.

  Then I heard something that made me bones shiver.

  Slap.

  ‘Mam, are you all right?’ I shouted. ‘Mam, what’s happened?’ The line had gone funny. Like she’d dropped the phone. ‘Mam!’

  ‘What did you do that for?’ I heard me mam say.

  Could hear FB’s voice, but couldn’t make out his words. Then she came back on.

  ‘You still there, Danny?’

  ‘Aye. Y’alreet, Mam? Did he hit you?’

  ‘Yeah. Just needed to stop the hiccups.’ But then I heard her choke back a sob. ‘Why did he have to hit me that hard?’

  Thirty

  • • •

  Thursday.

  Last night’s phone call with me mam had scared the cack out of me. To make things worse, in two days’ time I was going to go back to the house where me mam’s going to get killed. If only I’d got me dad to do what I wanted. The trip had been a total disaster. Everything had happened the wrong way round. I’d got rid of me dad’s partner, but he wouldn’t get rid of me mam’s. Ironic or what? And I still hadn’t come up with a way to sort out Lanky Dave. I was officially totally useless.

  Got up. Had to. The sofa was starting to annoy me. Had a quick shower, then had me breakfast. Was on the last spoonful when Stevie appeared. He was on the phone, speaking all soft.

  ‘Speak to you soon, sweetheart. Love you.’

  Stevie switched his pho
ne off, and whistled as he buttered his toast.

  ‘Is Megan coming back?’ I said.

  ‘Might. I think the storm has passed.’ And he started whistling again.

  Glad someone was happy.

  ‘What you fancy doing today, Geordie boy?’

  ‘Don’t care, it’s your country.’

  Think Stevie could tell I was hacked off.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘He hit her.’

  ‘Last night?’

  ‘Aye. She had the hiccups.’

  ‘A wee slap on the back’s nee bother. We’ve all done it. He probably didn’t mean to hurt her.’

  ‘Aye, you’re right. I’m sure when you hit Megan on the back she starts crying her head off. Nothing to worry about.’

  Stevie looked away, like me words had drilled into his head and were defeating his words. Nothing to do with me, Danny.

  He put his cheery face on. ‘I don’t get paid till tomorrow. How about doing the hills?’

  Shrugged. Hills would be good. Then I’d be able to tell me mam I’d walked up something, like I was meant to be doing.

  Didn’t say much on the way out of Edinburgh, but Stevie did. Hardly stopped, like he was trying to make up for the fact that he was never going to do what I needed him to.

  We drove somewhere called the Pentland Hills Regional Park. Stevie stopped in a car park surrounded by trees. Behind the car park was a massive hill.

  ‘We gannin all the way up there?’

  ‘It’s just a wee hill.’

  Couldn’t see anything wee about it. We got out of the car and started climbing. The path got steeper and steeper, and on some bits I was crawling on all fours like a bear.

  ‘Where’s the escalator?’

  ‘Escalators are for wee bairns and grannies.’

  I didn’t talk the rest of the way up. Couldn’t. The hill had taken all me spare breath away.

  After absolutely ages we finally made it to the top. I was blowing like Adam Cooper in PE. Adam’s the fattest kid in school.

  ‘Here we are,’ said Stevie, grinning. ‘The top of Caerketton Hill. How’s that for a view?’

  Not really into views but had to admit this was quite a good one.

  ‘Canny,’ I went.

  The wind was blowing like crazy up here. When you put your face into it, was like being slapped by invisible hands.

  ‘You can see Edinburgh Castle, the Firth of Forth, and that big rock there is Arthur’s Seat.’