Authors: Lisa O'Donnell

Closed Doors (24 page)

‘She’s moving on, Ma,’ he whispers to Granny.

‘She’s bettering herself,’ says Granny.

‘What if she betters herself so much a builder will not be good enough for her? She’s always been the smart one,’ says Da.

‘After what you two have been through wild horses couldn’t separate you and anyone can see it. You’re a strong man, Brian Murray, and I couldn’t be prouder of you.’

There is a little silence between them and I wonder if they are hugging. I am dying to look but I am hiding behind the door and not supposed to be listening or anything at all.

‘Today of all days,’ he says to Granny.

Da is upset by the rain. I don’t know why. I love the rain. It cleans the entire world and makes everything fresh again.

‘It won’t matter to Rosemary, son. She’s going to go mad with joy. Where’s Michael?’ says Granny.

‘I’m here,’ I say, forgetting I am not supposed to be so close to the kitchen door, but Granny hardly notices, though she scowls a little like she does know but has no time for upsets today. I wonder what is going on.

‘Away upstairs and put your good clothes on,’ she says.

The only good clothes I have are the ones from Christmas and they include Granny’s jersey, which is already too small for me. I will look stupid, I think.

When I am dressed I am called downstairs and there is
more
champagne sitting next to
more
flowers and I wonder if the monster is dead, this would be the cause for a great party and all kinds of joy and happiness.

‘What’s going on?’ I ask.

‘Something very special indeed,’ beams Granny.

Da enters the room with a giant box and places it on the table. He looks at his watch.

‘Is it Ma’s birthday?’ I ask, worried I have forgotten.

‘No,’ says Granny. ‘It’s better than that. Much better.’

‘She should be here any minute now,’ says Da, but Ma is not any minute and eventually Da has to take a seat and grab for his paper. He rustles it about and gets irritated by everything he reads. He is totally impatient and clock-watches for ages. He is driving me mad, but so is Ma and I wish she would hurry up. The jersey I am wearing is tight and I am desperate to take it off.

‘That Tricia is keeping her gabbing no doubt,’ says Granny all annoyed.

Eventually the door rattles and Ma enters the kitchen all wet with Tricia Law. She sees everyone dressed to the nines, the champagne, the flowers and the big present.

‘What’s the occasion?’ she says.

‘Open your gift,’ says Tricia, lighting a fag. She is soaked through and so is Ma.

‘Let me take my coat off,’ says Ma.

‘Leave it on,’ says Da.

‘What for?’ says Ma.

‘Open the present and you’ll see,’ says Da all excited.

‘Well, I hope it’s a brolly, I’m soaked through,’ says Ma.

‘Open your gift, Rosemary,’ says Granny impatiently.

Ma starts to peel the wrapping off her present. About time, I think.

I am annoyed because I know it’s not a brolly, it is something everyone knows about except me. This is a door I was not standing behind when they were making this secret, I think.

Anyway she unwraps the papers and finds it’s a box with more paper on it. It’s one of those big presents you have to unwrap and unwrap until you get to a tiny box where the treasure lies. Ma takes ages and there is paper all over the floor and every time she is confronted by another box she screams and laughs. Eventually she reaches the treasure and it is a small velvet box. A ring, I think. A big diamond ring. How boring, is my next thought, but then Ma opens the box and it is not a ring, it is a key.

‘What’s this?’ she smiles. Da hands her an envelope with papers in it.

‘It’s what you always wanted, a home of your own,’ says Da. ‘A view. This house to share with your family and for always.’ Da turns red at this. ‘Is that what you want, Rosemary?’ He worries she will say no. Things are very different now.

Ma looks into Da’s face all pink and eager for an answer and nods. She grabs for him and kisses him like I kissed Alice. I am mortified to see them like this. I look to the ground while Tricia playfully rubs at my hair.

‘Juicy Fruit?’ she says. I nod.

‘Shall we open the door?’ says Granny, even though Ma has already opened the door today and with the same key she has in her purse, but somehow this key is different. With our raincoats on and the smell of the sea drifting from the harbour we stand on our doorstep while Ma turns the lock and opens our front door. Ma steps inside her home and onto the landing. We are right behind her. We would follow Ma anywhere. Once inside Ma closes the door shut and everything feels warm; we were freezing on that step but happy to be there for Ma’s sake. She is bright and cheered. She has a view bought from the government and the last thing Da wanted, but he wants Ma more. When she grabs for me I am glad. I am gladder than any boy can be. My ma loves me and with the door closed behind us we can have our party now.

Drinking champagne and having a good old time Ma finds my eyes watching her across the room. She makes a kissing motion and sends it to me in the air. I am supposed to catch it like a baby and today I think I will. It might have made me cry if I was a baby, but I am not a baby. I am the toughest lad in the scheme and the toughest lad in the scheme doesn’t cry about anything in the whole wide world. Not one thing and not today.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

When you’re writing your acknowledgements it’s hard to know where to start, so many people have supported and encouraged me on this very privileged road and I could hug them all. I want to make mention of the women in my family who taught me to listen and to laugh, my Granny Hunt, my Great-auntie Jean, my Great-auntie Betty, my Auntie Ginny, my Auntie Betty and my mother; strong, able and hilarious. No one can imagine the laughs in a room full of MacDonald women, but I was assured by them all (and generally amidst a cloud of smoke) if I learned to laugh young then life would go easy on me. They were so right.

I want to thank my hometown in Rothesay. When I left home I was told by a much older generation ‘You can go, but you’ll come back. Everyone does one way or another.’ Wise words. My pen is a pepper shaker and always spills the influence of where I come from. I am very grateful. I also want to thank Susanna Maggioni for the use of her little cottage by the river in Treviso, a writer’s heaven.

To my editor, the insightful Laurie Ip Fung Chun at Windmill Books, who I have had the privilege of working with for over two years now. We’re always on the same page and the talent you lend me is received with much gratitude. I thank my agent Alex Christofi in the same vein.

And finally to my grandparents, Len, Nan, Biddy and Danny. Wish you were here. I have tons to tell you xxx

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Epub ISBN: 9781448165216

Version 1.0

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Published by William Heinemann 2013

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Lisa O’Donnell has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

First published in Great Britain in 2013 by

William Heinemann

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