by Anne Donovan
‘That’s it. And ah polished ma wings too. Christ …’
‘What?’
‘The pasta’ll have boiled dry.’
‘Fuck the pasta.’
‘No ma type, tagliatelle. Now if you’d picked fusilli …’
The fuzzy feelin disappeared as fast as it had come and ah could feel the energy rise in me. ‘Ah’m starvin. Come on – up.’
‘Again? God you’re insatiable, woman.’
‘Just hungry – for food.’
‘OK, ah’m on the case. Intae that kitchen.’
When ah was about tae leave, David said, ‘When d’you want tae meet? Whit aboot the morra night or is that too soon for your amazin social diary?’
‘Ah don’t really like tae be oot two nights in a row … need tae spend some time wi Anne Marie.’
‘Is she no oot clubbin oan a Saturday night these days?’
‘She’s only twelve.’
‘Twelve? Ma wee cousin’s twelve and you should see her … dyed hair, pierced belly button, goes oot hauf naked. She’s got a better social life than me.’
‘Anne Marie’s no that kind of twelve, though she is growin up fast right enough. It’ll no be long afore all ah’ll be daein on Saturday nights is ferryin her aboot.’
‘Still that’s wan benefit of havin yer weans young though, isn’t it? You’re still young enough tae enjoy yersel when they’ve grown up.’
‘Suppose so. Never really though of it that way.’
‘Anyway, let’s make a date … fancy gaun tae the pictures on Tuesday?’
‘The pictures?’
‘D’you no like the pictures?’
‘Ah love the pictures, it’s just …’
‘Ah get it, you cannae bear the thought of keepin yer haunds aff ma body for that long … you are insatiable, woman.’ He put his airms round me and started kissin ma neck. ‘Thank God.’
He stopped. ‘But it doesnae have tae be either or – we could go tae the pictures and you could come back here for a night of wild passion as well.’
‘It’s no that, David. Look, ah’ve no told Anne Marie yet. And if somebody seen us at the pictures thegether, well.’
‘Oh, well, that’s me then … have tae gie up a date at the GFT for a furtive night of fumblin aboot in the sack wi you. What a drag. But there you go. Right. Whit time’s this night of passion then?’
‘Ah’ll phone you. OK?’
It’s funny how you just get used tae things, patterns form afore you know it. That first night at David’s seemed dead strange but efter a few weeks it felt natural to be there. Ah’d go round tae his hoose on a Friday night while Jimmy and Anne Marie watched a video thegether; the first week ah said ah was seein Nikki and efter that it was just kind of assumed. Naebody even asked me whit ah was daein.
It’s the details of those first few weeks wi David that keep comin back tae me. His room had a kind of yellowy light; it faced west and the last rays of the sun trailed in through the smeared windae panes. It was strange the way ah never minded the grubbiness of everythin. We’d lie in bed, talkin or no talkin, and ah’d watch the dust lit up in a sunbeam, the tangled-up socks in a corner of the room and just notice the way the colours blended intae each other. At hame ah couldnae of done that, ah’d of been oot ma seat cleanin the place up, but here it was time out. Ah drank tea fae stained mugs and ate ma dinner aff plates wi patterns of fine cracks on them and never said a word.
We spent maist of the time in his room. Just wanted tae keep touchin, feel the closeness; the smell of him. Ah used tae smell of him efterwards, didnae wash him aff when ah went hame, would wake the next mornin alone in ma ain bed, smellin of him. When ah was wi him ah felt at peace. When we made love, ah felt as if ah was on another planet. It was just, ah don’t know.
We never talked that much in his room, it was as if we didnae need words, just bein thegether, but we’d meet for lunch a couple of times a week and then we couldnae stop talkin – ah’d never talked tae anybody aboot hauf the things ah did wi David. Wan day when ah’d went back tae the office efter bein wi him, Nikki turned tae me and said, ‘It must be love.’
‘What?’
‘You and David. Ah’m no kiddin, you should see your face – it’s aw lit up.’
Ah shook ma heid and opened the folder on ma desk. ‘Away you go.’
Ah’d meant tae tell Anne Marie, ah wanted tae, but somehow ah couldnae. Every time we were thegether, mibbe daein the dishes or watchin the TV, and ah’d be aboot tae speak when sumpn stopped me. Anne Marie seemed that happy the now, gettin on well at school and spendin every spare minute wi Nisha, and ah couldnae bear tae spoil it. Ah knew she was upset aboot her granny but she seemed tae be gettin ower it fine and ah just didnae want tae stir things up. It was if ah’d put David intae a compartment in ma life, shoved him away in a drawer when ah wisnae wi him. Ah kept thinkin that the right time would come and ah’d know when it was.
Ah wisht ah’d somebody tae talk to but only Nikki knew, and she couldnae see whit the problem was.
‘Why don’t you just sit her doon and tell her?’
‘Ah don’t know. Ah’m scared ah’ll upset her.’
‘It’s hardly a big deal these days. Anyway, you and Jimmy have been separated for a while noo …’
‘Four month. It’s no long, Nikki.’
‘Aye, but he left you, didn’t he? Went aff tae stay in that Centre?’
‘Suppose so.’
‘So you’ve a right tae enjoy yersel. Look, Anne Marie’s a big girl noo – sensible too. She’ll probably be glad you’ve got someone else.’
Ah didnae say anythin. The trouble was that Nikki didnae have any weans of her ain so she didnae really unnerstaund. Ah knew whit ah was daein wis wrang, and stupit as well, for it would be a lot worse if she found oot, but ah couldnae help masel. Ah’d nae idea how she’d react, and couldnae bear the thought that she might look at me wi disapproval, contempt even.
But ah couldnae bear tae gie him up either. Ah didnae know whit ah felt for him, if it was love or lust, friendship or whit, but when we were thegether there was a peacefulness ah never felt anywhere else, that seemed tae colour everythin.
But it couldnae go on like this.
‘Liz, when are you gonnae stay here the night insteidy gettin up and goin away hame?’
‘Ah don’t know. Ah thought you’d be glad tae have the bed tae yersel. It’s no exactly built for two.’
‘We could sleep in Fraser and Susie’s bed next weekend, they’ll be away. It’s king-sized. Ah’d even change the sheets for you.’
‘Thanks. What have I done tae deserve this?’
‘So is it a date?’
‘Ah’ll need tae check.’
‘Surely Jimmy would stay ower wi Anne Marie for wan night.’
‘Ah’m sure he would.’
He scratched the back of his neck, frowned. Ah pulled ma top over ma heid.
‘Liz, he does know, doesn’t he?’
‘Naw, no yet.’
‘But Anne Marie does, right?’
Ah shook ma heid.
‘Liz …’
‘Ah’m gonnae tell them, ah just, ah’ve no managed tae find the right moment.’
He turned on his side and faced the wall. ‘Well, when you dae, let me know, will you?’
‘David, don’t be like that. It’s no easy.’
‘It’s no easy for me either. Did that never occur tae you?’
‘How d’you mean?’
‘We never get tae dae anythin thegether.’
‘Ah thought we did plenty.’
‘Ah’m just a sex toy tae you – oh well, should be used tae it by noo. Women are always flingin theirselves on me, efter ma body.’
‘That’s it.’
He sat up and put his airm round me. ‘Liz, ah like you, ah really like you a lot. Ah think we could be good thegether, but ah’m gettin a bit sick of a part-time relationship. Ah want us tae go oot thegether withoot you lookin round tae see who’s watchin us.
Ah want tae walk doon a road and put ma airm round you, go tae the movies wi you. Ah want you tae stay the night wi me. Look, ah even want tae meet Anne Marie – she’s your daughter, she’s part of you.’
Ah didnae know whit tae say. Ah suppose ah’d no really thought aboot his side of it afore, just assumed he was gettin everythin he wanted.
‘Ah’m sorry, ah will speak tae her.’
‘Afore next week?’
‘OK.’
‘Liz, ah know it’s no easy, but ah don’t want tae go on like this, and if you’re no gonnae tell her ah’d raither get oot afore it gets too heavy, OK?’
We kissed, and he stroked ma hair and ah went aff, and it was like every other time ah’d left him in his room, in the darkness, and went oot intae the dull light of the close. But it wasnae, for there was somethin in the way he turned away fae me as ah left. Just very slightly, probably he never knew he was daein it hissel, but it was there; tellt me he was preparin hissel in case ah didnae tell her, in case he needed tae move away fae me. Ah knew it hadnae happened yet, but ah knew he was capable: if it fell apart, he’d go oot and get pissed, lie in his bed a few nights watchin the light fade while he listened tae the Beta Band; then wan day he’d notice a lassie in the library or in a café or in Iceland daein her messages, and that would be it. Over. And ah knew ah’d need tae make up ma mind whether ah could bear that better than ah could bear the look that might come intae Anne Marie’s eyes when ah tellt her.
But ah never got the chance tae make that decision.
It’s strange when you look back over your life and try tae see it as if you were somebody else – God, mibbe, lookin at it fae up in the sky. When ah was a wee lassie ah was always imaginin God lookin doon, watchin the thing ah was daein right that minute; eatin a biscuit, learnin tae jump in the ropes wioot missin. When you’re a wean that’s whit yer life is, just a series of moments. Then as you get aulder it changes somehow, becomes bigger.
When Anne Marie was wee ah can remember her askin ‘Is it today?’ and me sayin ‘It’s always today.’ That’s whit it’s like for Jimmy – it drives me daft the way he never seems tae remember that we’re gaun oot somewhere or the van needs taxed. Ah’m the right opposite; for me it’s never today, it’s always the morra. Every night ah look at the calendar and think aboot whit ah’ve got tae prepare for the morra, or next week. Is there ironin tae be done, any messages tae get, dae ah need tae take sumpn oot the freezer for the morra’s dinner?
When ah grew up ah stopped livin fae moment tae moment, always too busy gettin somewhere. Ah wish ah could see ma life spread oot in front of me, as if ah was up in the sky; like an astronaut lookin at a river, seein the start and the middle and the end of it as it flows tae the sea. If ah could of looked at it like that, fae ootside, ah suppose whit happened next was inevitable, though at the time ah was shocked, couldnae unnerstaund how it had happened.
Ah mean, there ah was, checkin we’d enough pasta, that the sell-by date on the yoghurt was long enough tae dae the week’s lunches, puttin the date on the calendar when the library books were due back.
So did ah dae it deliberately then? Did ah mean for it tae happen? Ah didnae sit doon and plan it oot, didnae stick holes in the condom or tell him it was safe when it wasnae; in fact, at the time it was the last thing on ma mind. But then whit has yer mind got tae dae wi it?
Anne Marie
MR HENDERSON LED the class up the stair tae the yella door. Ah hung back as everyone piled intae the narrow hallway. Ah was hopin the lamas wouldnae be there, or at least wouldnae recognise me, prayed they’d no say anythin aboot ma da in fronty the others. When Mr Henderson had announced we were gaun on a visit tae the Buddhist Centre as part of wer RE course ah nearly died. Ah even thought of sayin ah was sick but Mammy never lets you stay aff school unless you’ve a temperature of a hundred and fifty and spots the size of ten pence pieces. Ah’d visions of us walkin in and ma daddy sittin there cross-legged on a cushion in fronty the Buddha. But of course there was no way he’d be there on a Tuesday mornin at ten o’clock – he’d be at his work so ah was probably safe.
Ah still wished ah was invisible as we crowded intae a room wi chairs set oot in rows. It wouldnae of been as bad if Nisha’d been there but she wasnae in ma RE class. Mr Henderson started talkin aboot when the Centre was opened and what it was for and all that. Sammy Rinpoche was staundin at the front beside him.
‘The lama is going to take us into the meditation room and go through a meditation with us. We’ve gone over meditation in class already. Does anyone want to ask him any questions now before we go in?’ He looked at Kevin. ‘Sensible questions now.’
Angela put up her haund. ‘Do yous meditate all the time?’
‘Not all the time. We eat and sleep, we watch the TV just like you.’
‘D’yous have Sky?’ says Kevin.
‘I said sensible questions,’ says Mr Henderson. ‘Are there any more?’
‘When did yous come over fae Tibet?’ asked Peter.
‘We did not come over from Tibet,’ says the lama. ‘We came from India.’
‘Sir, you said they lamas were Tibetan.’
‘We are originally from Tibet but we had to leave our own country when we were very young. We have never been able to go home. When the Chinese took over the government they started to shut down monasteries and many people fled to India. That is where we trained as monks.’
‘That’s where you come fae in’t it, Khalil?’ says Kevin.
‘Don’t be daft, he comes fae Pakistan.’
‘Ah do not,’ says Khalil. ‘Ah come fae Govan.’
‘Look, can we stop this – I don’t think you have learned much in RE this term, Kevin. I’ll need to speak to your parents about extra homework.’ He turned to the rest of us. ‘Right, let’s go through to the meditation room.’
As they all filed in ah held back, thinkin aboot the lamas, havin tae flee their ain country and go tae India tae learn tae be monks, then comin here. And no allowed tae go back. Ah wondered what it was like, Tibet.
In the meditation room the lama was sittin cross-legged on the platform beside the statue of the Buddha.
‘Come over here and get some cushions everyone.’
Ah followed the others tae the heap of cushions. Kevin was just in front of me and when he bent over he said, ‘Check that, a sleepin bag – that’s for me!’ He started tae lift ma daddy’s sleepin bag and drag it tae the centre of the flair but Mr Henderson seen him and took it aff him.
‘Take two cushions, Kevin. You’re here to meditate, not kip.’
Ah could feel ma face flush bright red. Didnae know where tae look. Even though naebody could of known it was ma daddy’s sleepin bag ah was pure mortified. Ah picked up a couple of foam blocks and turned round.
Then ah seen it. On the opposite wall was a giant mural of the Buddha, sittin cross-legged in meditation wi that wee hauf-smile he always has. The background was rich dark greens and reds and the Buddha had an orange robe. The details of the picture were sketched oot and no all of them had been painted in yet but the effect was amazin. While ah stood lookin at it, Mr Henderson came up behind me. ‘Impressive, isn’t it?’
‘Amazin.’
‘It wasn’t here the last time I brought a class for a visit. Really brightens up this room.’
* * *
Nisha and me went tae the library efter school that day. Ah’d a project for Geography hamework: pick a country and find oot all aboot it, dae research and write it up, stick in photies. And wi ma da stayin wi the lamas and the Tibetan chants on the CD and all that ah suppose Tibet was the obvious choice. Nisha’s class is daein History the now but she was gonnae help me surf the Net in the library. But when we got there the library was mobbed and all the computers were booked.
‘Sorry,’ says the wumman at the desk, flickin through her appointments sheet. ‘Friday between 10 a.m. and 11 a.m., next Monday at 3 p.m., Tuesday 12 p.m. or 2.30 p.m.?’
‘We’re at school then.’<
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‘How about a week on Saturday at 10.30 a.m.?’
‘OK. Thanks. Can you tell us where the atlases are, please?’
‘Reference section. Upstairs.’
Upstairs they’ve got big tables you can study at. There was hardly anybody there, just an auld guy wi a pile of big books spread out in front of him and a wee wumman fillin in a form. Nisha and me went over tae the shelf where the atlases were.
‘A week on Saturday – ah cannae believe it.’
‘Ah’d ask Gurpreet if we could use his computer, but you know what he’s like.’
‘It’s OK. Ah need tae look up the maps anyway.’
‘What about your mum’s computer?’
‘Doesnae have an Internet connection. Ma keeps sayin she’s gonnae get a modem but she’s just never got round tae it.’
The auld guy at the table cleared his throat and gied us a look. Nisha crossed her eyes and made a face at me then sat doon as far away fae him as possible wi her Maths hamework. Ah pulled oot an atlas, laid it on the table and looked up the list of countries at the front.
‘Nisha,’ ah whispered. ‘Tibet’s no in this.’
She scanned the list.
‘Tuvalu – where the hell’s that?’
‘Havenae a scooby. Sounds like a toilet cleaner. Hey, they’ve even got the Vatican City.’
‘That’s a country?’
‘But Tibet isnae, apparently.’
‘Anne Marie, that’s it. It’s no a country.’
‘Aye it is, that’s where the lamas come fae.’
‘Have you looked under China?’
Ah remembered what the lamas had said aboot their country bein taken over by the Chinese.
Nisha turned tae the back of the atlas. ‘Look here it is … in the index. Tibet – see Xizang Zizhiqu, China.’
It gied me a shock, seein it like that. Ah’d kind of thought the Chinese werenae supposed tae be there. Last week the Dalai Lama was on the TV talkin tae somebody aboot Britain puttin pressure on China tae leave Tibet. But here it was in the atlas, doon in print.