A Dish of Stones

by Valentina Hepburn

  Kate got up and began to stroll around the room, peering at the pop-star posters cut from Jackie magazine that Emma had fixed to her walls. David Essex was definitely the favourite.

  “You look funny when you’ve just woken up,” she said.

  “You look funny all the time but I have to put up with it. How is she this morning?” Kate shrugged. “Don’t know...don’t care.” Emma gave her a sideways look. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “Very convincing I don’t think.”

  “It could be worse.” Emma laughed. “Worse? How?”

  “She could beat you up as well.” Emma shook her head. “No way. I’d punch her lights out. One step towards me and I’d make mincemeat out of her and I’d enjoy every second.”

  Kate sat back on Emma’s bed and sighed. “What are we going to do, Emma?”

  “How the hell should I know? You’re the eldest. I’m the baby of the family remember and I don’t know ‘anyfink’.”

  She scrambled out of bed and pulled a jumper over her pink brushed-nylon night-dress, clinging to her quivering body with static electricity. “Christ it’s cold in ‘ere again. If you want to do something useful go and make up the fire downstairs. It’s bloody freezing.” Kate stared at her. “I'm only the eldest by a few months. You're not that much younger than me. And d’you have to swear like that? Y’know dad wouldn’t have stood for it. I really hate it when you swear. It makes you sound so common.” Emma raised her eyebrows. “Oh, la-di-bloomin’ da. Excuse me, Lady Muck. We are common aren’t we? Look at the way we live. Our mum’s a drunk, our dad’s run off with some tart and our house is like a shit-hole. Oh, and we’ve got no money.” She paused and sighed, a look of understanding crossing her face. “And I suppose you want me to come to market again with you today?” Kate knew what was coming next.

  “Well forget it. It’s bad enough having to hide things from the other kids when we’re at school, but to have to do it at weekends too? No thanks. They all go to the market on a Saturday morning but they don’t go to buy rotting food. They buy records or jewellery or...or clothes. They think we’re from a rough family as it is,” she cried with a shake of her head. It fell quiet.

  “We have to eat, Em’. You’ll want breakfast this morning, won’t you? Even if we can’t afford much it’s better than nothing and what about dinner-time? Where do you think it comes from? Someone has to buy it and Mum can’t. I know it’s not right but it’s the way it is. We either accept it or we don’t and we starve to death. What’s it to be?” She brought the palm of her hand down firmly on the top of Emma’s dressing table, rattling the bits of plastic jewellery and empty glass perfume bottles Emma had hoarded. “Perhaps you’d like me tell Mrs. Forsythe. Then she’ll tell welfare. They’ll come to the house again and they’ll split us from Mum and then from each other. Is that what you want? They’ve already been here snooping around so they’re suspicious already. What the hell d’you want me to do, Emma?”

  Emma wrapped her arms around herself and fidgeted with her bare feet on the linoleum floor. “OK, OK I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Of course I don’t want you to tell anyone. You won’t, will you?”

  “No, I won’t tell anyone. Not for now anyway. I’m going to get ready and go to the market.” She nudged her sister playfully on the shoulder. “You will come, won’t you?” Emma nodded. “Yeah, I’ll come. But if we see any of my friends we run, right?”

  ***

  The market was full to bursting with early morning shoppers. The voices of the market traders could be heard plainly above the chattering crowd. Men and women stood for hours in the bitter cold, trying to earn an uncertain living from their market stalls selling everything from sewing thread to fishing tackle, from clothes to house-wares. Everything anyone could possibly need was here at Hatters Market in Willowbridge. It was before nine in the morning and the greasy smell of hot dogs, chips and fried onions already floated on the air.

  Kate and Emma pushed their way through the crowd, Kate looking out for the stall where she usually bought vegetables. They made their way to the usual pitch and she looked around. She frowned. “He’s not here,” she said, sighing.

  “Who isn’t?” asked Emma.

  “The veggie-man I know.”

  “There are loads of vegetable stalls. Why do we have to go to him? Look there’s one over there,” Emma said, pointing to a stall the other side of the aisle.

  “Yeah, but he’s not the one I usually go to. I go to him because he knows me. He puts the unsold stuff from yesterday aside for me and lets me have it cheap. I don’t know what to do now.”

  “Maybe his pitch has moved,” said Emma. “Let’s look around the market and see if we can find him.”

  They went from stall to stall searching the market trader’s faces.

  “What does he look like?” asked Emma

  “He’s sort of tall with a dark beard...and quite fat.” Emma groaned. “Well they all look like that...and that’s just the women.”

  Emma laughed at her own joke and Kate frowned, craning her neck to see over the heads of the people around her. “No, he’s not here,” she said shaking her head. “Now what?”

  “Go somewhere else then,” said Emma. “We’ll just have to pay a bit more that’s all. At least the stuff will be fresh and it’ll probably last longer too. What do we do about meat?”

  “God knows what you’d do if you had to come here by yourself. You wouldn’t know where to start,” cried Kate. Emma shrugged. “I wouldn’t come.”

  “Yes you would, Emma,” Kate said, annoyed with her.

  “I bloody well wouldn’t. I wouldn’t be seen dead down here hawking around for cheap veg’. What a show up.”

  “So we’d go without then?”

  “Yeah, we would.” Kate took no notice of her. “Well we’ve got to get something. Just potatoes, swede, carrots...for stew. Neck of lamb, liver...”

  “Oh, shut up,” Emma cried. “You’re making me feel sick.”

  “...Suet,” Kate continued, still ignoring Emma, “and flour. That’ll have to do for now and if we run out of anything we’ll have to shop day-by-day. I hope my veggie man’s here next week. I don’t know what we’ll do if he isn’t. Without him we can’t have any fruit. We’ll have to go without this week.”

  “So what? No change there then,” Emma said, sulkily.

  They went from stall to stall buying the cheapest of everything, watching for every marked down ticket and making sure they didn’t pay over the odds for anything.

  “Shall we go to the cafe, Kate?” Emma asked her. Kate laughed. “You’re a joker aren’t you? We can’t afford it.”

  “We don't have to buy anything. Can’t we just go and see who’s there? Some of my friends from school go there on a Saturday. We could just have a chat.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to see anyone from school.”

  “Oh, it’s all right now...now we’ve got everything. We don’t have to tell them what we’ve bought, do we? Come on, Kate, don’t be so boring.”

  The Coffee Kisses Cafe was a favourite haunt for the High School kids who spent most of Saturday there. They idled their time away gossiping, girls meeting boys, boys meeting girls and all of them spending very little. When Kate and Emma got to the cafe, Emma squealed with delight.

  “Oh, great. Jenny’s in there.” There were greetings of “hello” and “hi, yer” from Emma’s friends. After ten minutes of bantering between them, Kate wanted to go, anxious about the time. “Come on, Emma.”

  “Oh, not yet, we’ve only just got here. Can’t we stay a bit longer?”

  “No, we have to go. Mum’s expecting us.” Emma turned her back to her. “Well, I’m not going. I’m staying here to talk to my friends. You go if you want.” Jenny looked from one to the other, her face turning pink. She didn’t like being in the centre of their argument.

  “Emma,” Kate hissed through gritted teeth. Emma refused to answer her so Kate turned to leave, unaware that someone was standing directly behind h
er. In her hurry to leave she bumped into them, losing her grip on the bags. One of the bags fell to the floor and potatoes rolled under the café tables as Emma and her friends shrieked with laughter. Kate lowered her head and closed her eyes. The morning was going horribly wrong.

  As she bent to retrieve the potatoes she realised the person she’d bumped into was also helping; crawling under the small tables to capture the escaping vegetables. She stood up and so did he. She smiled sheepishly as he handed her a muddy escapee.

  “Thanks,” she said, quietly. “I’m sorry about bumping into you like that. Did I hurt you?”

  “No, of course not,” he said grinning.

  “I’d buy you a cup of coffee as a sorry,” she said, glad she wasn’t able to, “but I’m all spent out I’m afraid.” At least that’s not a lie, she thought. She watched as he pulled two chairs out from one of the tables. “In that case, you must let me buy you one.”

  A glance at the clock on the café wall told her that she was already late. “Er, no,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.” He smiled at her again. Kate felt her heart skip a beat.

  “But I want to,” he insisted. “A cup of Coffee Kisses finest is just what you need, or maybe you'd prefer a milk-shake?” Kate shook her head. “Coffee’s fine, thanks.” She sat on the chair he offered and he smiled at her as he turned and went to the counter. Emma caught her eye, grinning and raising her eyebrows. Kate looked away feeling cross. If Emma hadn’t insisted that they go to the café everything would’ve been all right.

  The young man joined Kate again, a tray in his hands. He sat in the chair facing her as he put the tray down on the table. “I bought you a doughnut. I hope you don’t mind.” Kate looked down at the soft doughy cake glistening with sugar, jam spilling lusciously out of its centre. Her mouth began to water. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten a doughnut. Mind? she thought. As if I mind. I could dive right into the middle of it. “Well, only if you’re sure.”

  “Oh, I’m sure,” he said.

  Kate picked up the cake and instantly a shower of sugar crystals fell back onto the plate. Unable to wait any longer she took a bite, immediately relishing the sweetness, her hunger getting the better of her. Glancing up she realised that he’d been watching her and she felt herself going red as she saw him grin.

  “I don’t know your name, do I?” he said, leaning towards her. She shook her head and wiped the sugar self-consciously from the corners of her mouth with a paper serviette. He raised his eyebrows and inclined his head towards her. “Aren’t you going to tell me? I think I should know the name of the girl I’ve just bought a doughnut for. I don’t do it for everyone.”

  “It’s Kate. Kate McGuire,” she said, smiling shyly. He nodded and repeated it. “That’s a lovely name. It suits you.” He waited then frowned. “Don’t you want to know my name?” he asked her. “Oh, um, sorry...yes of course I want to know your name. What is it?” She clenched her stomach muscles with anxiety and thought what a mess she was making of having a normal conversation with this gorgeous boy who had simply bought her a coffee and doughnut.

  “Stephen Barton at your service, ma’am.”

  Kate giggled and looked at him more closely. He was very good looking; his features fine and rather delicate. She noticed his jet-black hair kept falling over his eye and he constantly pushed it back. It was the middle of winter yet he had a golden tan. His eyes were dark brown and fringed with long black lashes. Being near him gave Kate a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “Thanks for the coffee and doughnut, Stephen. It was nice to meet you but I have to go now.” He put his hand on her arm as she got up to go. “Don’t leave. You don’t have to go yet.”

  “Yeah, I do. I’m already late. Sorry.” Her mind wandered away from him as she wondered what kind of reception would be waiting for her at home.

  “Do you always shop on a Saturday?” he asked her. Kate froze. “Er, yeah. Why?”

  “I thought I could see you again next Saturday. Here, at twelve thirty? What d’you think?”

  “I don’t know,” she said quickly. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it. My mum hasn’t been well lately. Sometimes she’s unable to go out so I have to help her.” He nodded as if he understood. “How old are you, Kate, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “I’m sixteen.” Smiling again, he took her hand. “Well, I’m nineteen and I often take care of my grandmother. She's very old and frail but I like to do my bit for her, so we have something in common. See. We’re made for each other,” he said, flashing a brilliant white smile. He tried again. “You get some free time surely, even if your mother’s not well. I’ll wait for you here next week. You’ve got to come.”

  Kate pulled her hand away. “I’ll think about it. If I can make it I will but I’m not promising.” She looked for Emma then called across the café to her. “Emma. We have to go.”

  To Kate’s relief Emma swung herself off the cafe stool and walked towards the door. Kate looked through the large front window as they walked past the café. Some of the older teenagers had joined Stephen at his table and they were laughing together. How on earth could she explain to Angie that at last a boy had shown an interest in her? Her mother would never accept it. She couldn’t go.

  “You lucky cow,” giggled Emma as they walked side by side towards home. “He’s gorgeous. Who is he?”

  “How should I know, I’ve only just met him. Just a boy I s’pose.” Emma laughed and held up her hands. “All right, all right, keep your hair on.” She paused. “I wish I could meet just a boy like him.” Kate glanced at her. “You’re too young.” Emma looked indignant. “I’ve kissed a boy.”

  “Don’t lie, Emma. Why do you always have to lie about everything?”

  “I’m not lying. I kissed Charlie Rogers behind the bike sheds last term. More than once as a matter of fact...and we used tongues.”

  “Why?” asked Kate, shaking her head with impatience. Emma screamed with laughter. “What d’you mean, why? Why does anyone kiss anyone? I fancied him.”

  “Sometimes I don’t think I know you. It’s all you think about, isn’t it, boys and stuff. There are more things going on in the world, y’know, Emma. Interesting things.”

  “Look,” cried Emma, exasperated. “I’m sixteen this year. I know what I’m doing and I’m normal. While we’re on the subject how many boys have you kissed?” Kate stayed quiet. Emma’s mouth dropped open and she began to squeal. “You’ve never kissed anyone, have you? You’ll be seventeen next birthday.”

  “Of course I have.” Emma pulled a face. “You mean Jack. He doesn't count.”

  “Of course he counts. Jack's...special. I've known him forever.” Emma sighed. “Exactly. And you were kids. It probably wasn't even a proper kiss. Not like you're meant to do it, anyhow.”

  “It’s not that important is it?” Kate replied impatiently. “In a world where there is so much going on does it really matter that I've only ever kissed one boy?”

  “Yes, it matters. You’re only young once. You should be at it all the time.”

  “Oh, sure. With mum breathing down my neck? I don’t think so.”

  Emma’s eyes narrowed. “He asked to see you again didn’t he? He did, I know he did. You will go, Kate. You must.” Kate increased her pace. “Come on, we’re late. Just get a move on, Emma.”

  They opened the back door just as Angie was coming down the stairs. She clutched her floral nylon housecoat tightly to her and followed them into the kitchen. “You’re late,” she said flatly, looking at Kate who felt a chill of fear filter through her.

  “The veggie man wasn’t there today. We had to wait to see what we could get. There wasn’t much going.”

  “No,” Angie said, peering into the brown paper carrier bags, turning her nose up at the contents. “I can see that.”

  She turned away and pulled a crushed cigarette packet out of her housecoat pocket. With shaking hands she lit a cigarette and pulled on it deeply.
“Make us a cuppa, will you?” The girls exchanged relieved glances as Angie left the kitchen and went into the living room. While Emma stacked the purchases from their shopping trip into the kitchen cupboards, Kate filled the kettle and placed it on the hob. Her thoughts went again to the boy she'd met at Coffee Kisses. She placed both hands on the handle of the kettle, one over the other as the water heated over the gas, and relished the feeling of increasing heat from the burner. With her eyes closed she could picture him – brown soulful eyes, tanned skin and the lock of hair falling in front of his face. It was the first time in her life that a boy had asked her out on a proper date. One for the diary she thought, smiling to herself.

  “What’s the joke?” Angie’s voice startled her. She was standing by Kate’s elbow, puffing away on the nearly smoked cigarette that looked in danger of disintegrating between her fingers.

  “No joke,” Kate answered, shaking her head.

  “The kettle’s boiling its head off, Kate McGuire, and you haven’t even noticed. What’s up with you, dreaming like that?” Angie narrowed her eyes and looked closely into her daughter’s face. “Mm. A boy. Got to be. I know that look.”

  Kate swallowed back her rising fear, wanting to hide herself away from Angie’s intrusive stare. She returned her mother’s gaze as best she could. Angie shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly as she walked out of the kitchen. “Just hurry up with the tea that’s all. I’m gasping.”

  Kate took a deep breath and looked across at Emma who was staring glassily at the floor. Looking up at Kate, she looked determined. “You have to go next Saturday,” she hissed at her. “Don’t let the old witch put you off going. You have to get away and have some fun, otherwise you’ll keel over from something fatal.” Kate sighed. “Oh yeah. Like what?” Emma thought for a moment. “Death, that’s what.” Kate nodded. “Very helpful, Emma. You think you’re so funny don’t you? I should expect pathetic comments like that from you. They’re not clever, y'know.” Emma smiled cheekily. “At least I don’t disappoint. I aim to come up with at least two stupid comments a day. That way everybody knows where they are with me. That was my first. You’ll get another one soon.” Kate raised her eyes. “Oh, great.”