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Ma, Jackser's Dyin Alone

Page 44

by Martha Long


  ‘Ready, Mum! WE HAVE TO LEAVE! HURRY!’

  I lifted my head, letting it shoot from my chest as the door blew open bringing a sudden explosion of noise ripping through my skull, wind blowing the breath out of me and the nostrils flaring in a puff of perfume that threatened to suffocate me.

  ‘TAKE IT EASY!’ I squealed, getting a fright from the young walking dynamo of energy with the voice loud enough to wake the dead, never mind wake me from my melancholic musings about wanting to put myself back into a private place where no one could get their hands on me.

  ‘What are you doing, Mum?’ my daughter asked absent-mindedly, as she examined herself in the mirror over the fireplace.

  I eyed her sourly, wondering why she asked the bloody question if she can’t even bother to look at me. W.C. Fields was right – anyone who can’t stand dogs and kids can’t be all that bad. Right! Let’s see what she thinks.

  ‘Oh! Well, I’ll tell you if you’re interested. Do you want to hear?’

  ‘Of course I do, Mum!’ she said, outraged at the idea I would even think she wasn’t fascinated by my daily doings.

  ‘I’m writing about my life,’ I said, giving another look to see if she was still interested.

  ‘Hurry, Mum! Tell me! I have to go!’

  ‘OK,’ I said, quickly taking a sharp intake of breath. ‘I have just been writing about my life growing up in a harem, then how I ran me own brothel. Now I do the odd few killings as a hit woman,’ I muttered. ‘Teenagers are my speciality. You would be surprised at how many mothers want to choke them but can’t bring themself to do it!’ I said conversationally, nodding my head gently.

  ‘Oh! Great!’ she sang, slapping her lips together, checking to see if her lipstick was looking good, then leaning in closer to examine her bright green eyes, looking even brighter now with the help of something to lift and dazzle, blinding you with the beauty.

  ‘We’re off! Hurry, Mum! We don’t want to miss our flights!’ she suddenly roared, managing to tear herself away from such beauty and finally rest her eyes on me without seeing a thing. Her mind was now on more important things. Holidays, freedom without me, Attila the hen, roping her in and keeping her in line. I didn’t shift meself. I sat frozen with the chin resting on the hands, staring, waiting to get her full attention.

  ‘What? What’s wrong?’ she puffed, widening the big eyes and flicking back the long silk tresses to get a better look at me.

  ‘Did you hear even one word I said?’ I sniffed, feeling very sorry and fed up they had never bothered to ask about my writing. All that slaving over a hot laptop.

  ‘You two are spoilt!’ is all I could get out before turning my head away and giving up. She stared down at the laptop now closed as I muttered, ‘I have just finished the last book. That’s it! My journey ends there,’ I said, wondering why I felt so empty and vulnerable.

  There was silence as she stared at me, now really listening, hearing what I was saying. ‘Mum,’ she whispered, ‘when we read your first book, we were shocked. We couldn’t read any more,’ she said quietly, sitting down and putting her arm around me. ‘We still can’t understand how you did it all, even though we saw you do it. Everything you touch turns to gold. You really are extraordinary, Mum! Even for someone who has had every advantage your life would have been a brilliant success. But you did it all without any help. You came from nothing, Mum! You didn’t even go to school! It really is astonishing how much you have achieved. Now, to crown it all, you have written all those books,’ she said, dropping her eyes, thinking about it.

  I said nothing, just listened. Then I sighed, wanting her to understand something very important.

  ‘Listen to me, pet. I hope I have given you something more important than just a comfortable life. You are at the end of your childhood. Your school days are now behind you. Soon you and your brother will be going to university. You earned a place at a top college and that’s a huge achievement. It rivals anything the best of the best has to offer. They accepted you because you are among the cream of the crop, the next batch of movers and shakers. This is it – your time has come. Now you are going to take your first step as an adult building your own life. I only hope I have given you enough goodness, nourished you with enough care and love to cope with whatever the world throws at you. These people will have different values. They will use you, chew you up and spit you out if you let them. They are used to the best money can buy. The excitement of drugs, sex, drink – they will have and want it all. So stand back, don’t get too close until you see what you are dealing with. Happiness not earned is not worth having. You can’t be happy at the expense of someone else’s misery. I hope now you have learned to tell the difference and be guided by that. Hold your head up, look the world straight in the eye and say, “Here I am, this is me – take me or leave me!”’

  ‘Mum, there is no need to worry about us. You just take care of yourself now. Because we worry about you. We know you had to fight hard, but it won’t be like that for us. We had a very comfortable upbringing and you gave us that. You even managed to be at home waiting with our dinner on the table when we came in from school. A lot of families with even two parents find that difficult, because it’s not easy. We want to make you proud of us because we are very proud of you, Mum,’ she said softly, looking straight into my eyes. Then she let go and looked at me, nodding her head gently, saying, ‘We will make you proud.’

  I stared back at her, seeing what a lovely young woman she is. Yes, I thought, letting my mind wander back into the distance. These two were such a gift. When I was in my darkest hour, all I had to do was hang on. It was all just waiting for me around the next corner.

  Come on, Martha! Don’t be afraid. It won’t bite you! Accept it – SUCCESS! I found myself at last. I have come home. I am comfortable in my own skin. I am the raw and unvarnished, the real Martha Long! Yeah, life is a bowl of cherries! You were right about that one, Martha. But wrong about ‘Laugh and the world will laugh with you; cry and you cry alone’. Well, I don’t have to cry alone. The world out there has cried with me. God, it’s packed with people just like me! All wanting to just fit in and say ‘I’m home’, then feel the cares of the world slip away as you feel safe and warm.

  ENVOI

  To all my readers, without whom these books would not see the light of day. My journey wobbling along a sometimes treacherous and merciless path of life would now be just fading private memories when I hurtle down the other side of the mountain, heading towards the last days of my end. Now, because of you, I will not be planted, taking with me the memories of a life once lived.

  For that, dear readers, I thank you.

  Also, not since my lonely journey recording my very early years in Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes have I ever again felt that loneliness when I sat to put pen to paper and continue that journey. From then on, I felt the spirit of your goodness leaning over my shoulder. It was your kindness, your good wishes, your total acceptance and understanding of me as just one person sharing my life with you. You appreciated it; you even said it helped you. What more could I ask for?

  I kept going because you were willing to listen. It has been worth every nightmare come back to haunt me. I have laughed, cried and dripped snots, but I kept going, knowing you were waiting. You cared, so my life did matter. You made me somebody! You are somebody to me.

  You are the little girl who lost her mother through cancer. Thank you, darling, for telling me I helped you get out of bed and face the day. Keep going, little one. You have a whole lifetime ahead of you, sweetheart, just as I once did.

  You are the lonely mother, faced with bringing a child up alone.

  You are the tortured soul isolated from the world, suffering from deep depression. It may even bring you to the edge, as it did me. But life is just around the next corner – only don’t let go! Just hang on. It’s coming!

  You are the eighty-year-old grandmother now living in a faraway land, forced to carry the dreadful secret of the monst
er’s shame who robbed you of your childhood. It is only now you whisper it, as you write to me of your pain.

  So, for all of you – you matter to me. We have helped each other along the way. What more do we need but just to know we are not alone? You gave me that.

  I say this to you quietly, because it comes from very deep in my heart:

  Thank you. I wish you all peace and contentment.

  THE END

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Epub ISBN: 9781780578194

  Version 1.0

  www.mainstreampublishing.com

  Copyright © Martha Long, 2013

  All rights reserved

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  First published in Great Britain in 2013 by

  MAINSTREAM PUBLISHING COMPANY

  (EDINBURGH) LTD

  7 Albany Street

  Edinburgh EH1 3UG

  ISBN 9781780576510

  This book is a work of non-fiction based on the life, experiences and recollections of the author. In some cases, names of people and places, dates, sequences or the detail of events have been changed to protect the privacy of others. The author has stated to the publishers that, except in such circumstances, not affecting the substantial accuracy of the work, the contents of this book are true.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any other means without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for insertion in a magazine, newspaper or broadcast

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

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