SCOTLAND ZEN and the art of SOCIAL WORK

by J.A. Skinner

  Chapter 10

  Tuesday 13th May afternoon

  You may lose weight because you're having difficulty eating and drinking and because you're burning more calories due to the continuous involuntary movements. This weight loss and loss of control can be mistaken for alcoholism

  I stand outside school with the girls waiting for John. He rushes out as usual like a released kidnap victim, having suffered years of confinement.

  ‘Khalid’s mother is making a baby,’ he says, ‘but it takes a long time.’

  ‘That’s lovely John,’ I reply, ‘it’s a miracle.’ He gives me a sidelong look and asks me if I’m going to have another baby.

  ‘No, John I have plenty to be going on with at the moment,’ thinking that with my lifestyle a baby really would be a miracle. We’re going straight to Granny’s for tea. This was a bit of a surprise; she sent the invitation with Kate this morning on her way to work. Actually what Kate said was,

  ‘Command performance required at Mother’s tonight, tea and possible interrogation.’

  Obviously I must have done something to ruffle feathers, but can’t for the life of me think what it is. Kate seemed in a great mood this morning. I had believed the thought of me being in trouble had cheered her up, but no it was better than that. The final signatures were on the final bits of paper for the adoption, it was just a waiting game now. I gave her a big hug, there were no words said but her cheek laid on mine spoke pages and we both got a bit tearful. She and Phillip have gone through a lot to get to this stage. Adoptive parents are expected to be totally perfect human beings these days.

  ‘I hope I’m not going to lose the best babysitter I've ever had when you’re going silly over a new baby.’

  ‘You’ll be the babysitter then smarty, that might curtail your dreaming and romancing.’

  ‘What romancing? I ask.

  ‘I’m not sure, Mags, you have a silly look on your face, but I haven’t time to interrogate you now, see you later.’

  One visit from Tommy and I have a silly look on my face, I’ll have to watch that and put on a serious face for Mam.

  Betty arrives at the school gate with Jamie and Andrew; she has walked from the playschool in the community hall further down the street. The children are all delighted to see each other and Jamie and Andrew’s artwork from playgroup is passed round and admired. Betty looks terrific, she has her short blonde hair spiked up in a ‘just out of bed’ style and has tight jeans and an oversized fluffy pink sweater. The clothes make her look super slim and about fourteen years old.

  ‘You look great Betty’ I say, ‘you make me look like an old frump.’

  Betty laughs and says,

  ‘A new man, good quality sex, puts a wee sparkle on.’ I might have known.

  ‘I’ll need all the details Betty, but I’m on my way to my Mam’s so it’ll have to wait. I’m not getting much excitement these days, but I can live off yours.’ It crosses my mind that if maybe I have a bit of romance with Tommy, might I begin to look as good as Betty, at least it would be a sound reason to keep shaving my legs?

  ‘No problem Mags’ she replies, ‘We’ll catch up later, this one doesn’t seem like he’s going fade away.’

  We separate the kids with some difficulty, and continue the walk to Mam’s wondering what this visit will be about. I do love her, but she can be really difficult at times. She has just never got over the fact that I grew up and got married, had sex and babies, but not quite in that order. I know she loves me and the children, but I never seem to be respectable enough, as a single parent, for her unconditional approval.

  The tea party goes well at first and the children are well sedated with chocolate biscuits. We chat about the adoption and I ask her advice about telling the children what’s happening. She thinks it’s too soon, it would be better to keep it all as quiet as possible It could still take a long time for a baby to appear and one hundred things could still go wrong. I agree with her for once, my kids would be asking Kate every day where her baby was.

  We eventually come to the point, the difficult part. My mother has heard through the Carfin tom toms drum communicators, that I’ve had a visit from a social worker. Shit, that was quick, it was only yesterday morning.

  ‘I’m sore heartbroken Margaret to think that you would involve a stranger if you’re having problems with the children,’ my mother starts.

  ‘Don’t jump to conclusions Mam, there aren’t any problems with the kids, dry your eyes,’ I say, as she has started to tear up. I don’t ever have to wonder who Rosie takes after. I try to explain to her the reason for the visit. I told her I had been worrying since Uncle John’s funeral about what the priest had said about the hereditary condition. I told her I hadn’t wanted to worry her too, so I decided to get advice from a professional.

  She stops her tears and heaves a sigh intended to break my heart,

  ‘I’m so relieved that’s all it is. I’m delighted you and the kids are fine. I thought that social worker only dealt with child care as he is the one doing Kathleen’s adoption.’

  Oh my good God, life gets a bit complicated doesn’t it? Mam’s source has certainly done a thorough job.

  ‘Please, Mam, forget about the social worker, its high time we talked about this anyway, please tell me now if there is any mystery in our family that we should all know about.’

  She is quiet for a few moments then says,

  ‘Your dear Father, God rest his soul, had a heart attack and John was ill for years with his nerves, what else do you kneed to know?’

  Here I go. I have to say it,

  ‘Huntington’s Chorea is what I need to know about, please tell me what you know.’

  My mother’s manner switches to defensive override

  ‘How could you think that Margaret? You should be ashamed, that’s terrible.’

  ‘It’s a disease Mam, not an embarrassment,’ I say, ‘come on, you must know if it’s in our family or not.’

  ‘Of course not, do you not think that I would‘ve told you?’ Her manner is as stiff as her syntax and I’m not quite sure I believe her, but she is getting all upset again so I back down swiftly.

  ‘Okay Mam, maybe I’m getting bloody stupid, but Dad and John died so young it doesn’t seem natural.’

  ‘Put it out of your head, hen and please don’t have a social worker visit again, people talk.’

  Tell me something I don’t know. This is one of the times I could gladly move to Glasgow or Australia to try to live an anonymous life. I guess I’m on my own with these suspicions now, I don’t think Mam will say more.

  When I get back home, I have a message on my phone from Tommy no-name, ‘Please call me back when you have time, non urgent.’

  Of course I call immediately and speak to the receptionist. I explain who I am and that I am returning a call to Tommy, but don’t know his surname as it is not on his card.

  ‘No problem sweetheart, I’ll get him now’, she says. I hear her speak to someone else, ‘Chicken wing, your messages are all here,’ who is this mad woman?

  Tommy comes on the line and says,

  ‘Don’t say anything Mags, please, till I finish. I’ve got two tickets to see Steve Harley tomorrow night in Glasgow, do you fancy going? Can you get a babysitter? Are you too busy? Can I pick you up?’

  This sounded like another nervy fit, but it also seemed to call for a snap decision.

  ‘Okay,’ I say, ‘sounds good.’

  ‘Fantastic,’ he almost shouts I’ll pick you up at seven, I have to go…,’

  ‘Wait, you didn’t tell me you were Kate and Phillip’s social worker, is that going to be a problem?’

  ‘Course not, Mags, I was going to tell you tomorrow, have to go.’

  Did I really arrange to go on a date with him? My God, all thoughts of my Mother and family mysteries fly out of my head. I call Kate at work and ask her to baby-sit tomorrow night. She is in such a good mood, that she agrees without any questions. Timing is everythin
g. She has had another call from Tommy herself just confirming he will keep in touch every week in case anything, we presume a baby, turns up.