Read Mo said she was quirky Online

Authors: James Kelman

Mo said she was quirky (21 page)

BOOK: Mo said she was quirky
6.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Sophie got up from the chair.

You too?

Yes.

Oh well, girls together!

Sophie smiled. Helen pushed her ahead into the hallway and into the room. Mo looked up from his laptop. We’re just being nosey, said Helen, arent we Sophie?

No.

Yes we are.

No we arent.

Helen laughed.

But we arent Mum, we arent being nosey.

Helen had her arm round the girl’s shoulders and made a face at Mo. You see, we are not being nosey. But we did wonder why you were in here and not sitting beside us for the last five minutes before you go to work. Is
that
right Sophie?

Yes.

Yes. Helen nodded.

We’re going to do the jigsaw, said Sophie quickly.

Oh yeah, so that’s why you want me out of it!

Yes, said Sophie.

No! laughed Helen. Did nobody tell you you could do the computer on the kitchen table and not be out of everything and away from the company?

Mo smiled, lowering the lid of his laptop.

Seriously, you could.

I’ll remember that.

Well you better!

Because what we want to ask, and this is true that we do, that we want to aahhsk, just as a special fayyyvour, we want to aahhsk when you intend taking me and Sophie to see a movie! Because we want to see a movie. Sure we do Sophie? and we want Mr Noisy to take us?

Yes! cried Sophie.

You want me to take you to a movie? I dont believe it!

Mo rose from his chair, glancing at his wristwatch. Except for his shoes and coat he was already dressed for leaving.

Dont be so cheeky. Isnt he so very cheeky Sophie?

Yes.

Helen paused a moment. But it’s true that we dont go out very much.

I know.

We have to make time.

I been saying that for weeks!

I know you have.

Like I mean I really really want to go out.

Helen nodded. It was true that he did and she knew that he did. He had moved to lift something from the top of the dressing table; his wallet and keys. His phone lay next to his laptop and she passed it to him.

Ta, he said, reminds me about yours. You need it fixed dont you!

Well no actually I think I need a new one.

Oh right yeah …

Sophie had let go Helen’s hand, she walked across to the window. Some of her dolls and things were here in boxes. She knelt on the floor to take them out. Helen watched her lining the first few along the window ledge. Mo turned to leave. Helen said, But it’s true, we really dont go out much.

You’re telling me, he said.

Oh Mo …

What?

Helen shook her head.

What is it? You okay?

Helen put her hand to her mouth, unable to answer. Mo stepped in front of Helen. He gripped her by the wrists, not forcibly; yet there was a pressure, however slight. He whispered: What’s wrong love?

She shook her head with as little movement as possible, so that Sophie wouldnt notice. Sophie’s concentration was to her toys. Mo relaxed his grip and dropped her hands, glanced at his wristwatch. Helen turned from him. She left the room. He followed her. Inside the kitchen entrance he put his arms round her. Helen what’s wrong?

She couldnt speak.

Have I done something?

Only if he wouldnt hold her. Her eyes were watering and he saw it and his eyes closed because it upset him. It upset him to see her crying. She was crying. Silly tears. So stupid. So so stupid. Sophie could be there and worried. But where they stood Helen and Mo blocked the entrance. Sophie couldnt have opened the door without Helen knowing but still she whispered. I just wish you werent going, it’s horrible.

Her eyes were closed. It was a serious wish. And for herself, how she wished she could stay home, every day. She so so
wished it was only the two of them – and Sophie, the three of them – that their life could be as they wanted. She prayed for that, she did. She didnt know if she believed in God but it was more of a prayer than a wish, that they could experience something like a real freedom, a real one; and they could choose how life was to be instead of having it forced on them all the time not being able to do anything they wanted, even go someplace else, just go out together, why could they not just go out together? Why couldnt the three of them just go someplace? Not forever, even just a long long time, months, if they could have long long months together. She didnt want him to let her go and he didnt. Her head angled over his right shoulder; her left forefinger close to her mouth, and she bit on it.

Mo was worried. Okay …? he said.

Yes, she said but really she didnt know if she was. She didnt feel it. Sometimes she felt okay but not now she didnt, really, more like sad. Poor Mo.

What’s wrong? he said.

She shook her head. Do you ever wonder if London isnt the answer? Perhaps it’s only a stepping stone.

What’s that?

Do you ever think we could go someplace else?

Mo frowned a moment, then smiled. I cant go no place. Where can I go? Apart from Glasgow!

Oh Mo.

I mean it. They wont take me.

Who wont?

All of them. Mo grinned. Me ethnicity is all wrong. Except the north of Scotland girl, right up the very top; in beside the penguins – what you call that place? oats, groats, porridge oats?

John O’Groats. Helen smiled. The two had separated now. Mo had his hands on the sides of her shoulders.

I aint joking, he said. Life’s tough for Pakis.

Oh God I wish you wouldnt say that.

Say what? Pakis?

It’s a horrible word.

The badge of shame. Heh heh heh. Mo was laughing, then shaking his head. He checked his wristwatch again.

Oh Mo, how can you laugh at that?

Because it’s funny.

Helen pushed her arms round his neck. He made a choking sound. I’m not
letting
you go, she said.

A man’s gotta go if a man’s gotta go. Mo was peeling off her hands to free himself. There’s a movie showing and we’re going. Not this Thursday but the next.

What one? asked Helen, following him into the hallway where his boots were positioned on a sheet of newspaper. Mo crouched to pull them on.

Any one, he said. You’re off I’m off it dont matter only it’s got to be a comedy.

I hate comedies.

Exactly. You’re amazing!

Helen pushed open the front room door to call to Sophie: Come and see Mo before he goes!

How could I
be
with somebody who hates comedies! he said. How is it even posseebleh mon dieu!

Helen had her hand on the front door handle. Now Sophie was there and Mo leaned to kiss her on the forehead. Sophie stepped back to avoid the contact but Mo moved quickly. You see that! he said.

I hate kisses, said Sophie.

Me too, said Mo and he kissed Helen on the lips. Helen had her arms round his waist and when they parted she muttered, Oh God.

Mo said, I know. He patted Sophie on the head and stepped outside.

Helen called, Take care. She and Sophie watched him walk downstairs. Sophie was holding Helen’s hand; they entered the kitchen. Sophie said, Do you like Mo mummy?

Yes, said Helen.

All the time?

No. Helen grinned. No, she said, not all the time. Do you like me all the time?

Yes.

Oh no you dont.

Yes I do. You like me all the time.

Helen smiled.

You do.

I know.

Sophie laughed.

Houses creaked because they were old. Old everything. The washing machine was the worst. When it entered the spin it crashed across the floor and banged into the sink support. If that collapsed what would happen to the pipes and water supply? The whole thing, it was a nightmare and like the actual washing machine itself, if it dropped through the floor, imagine it, the family below at their breakfast. Mo had looked to see what was wrong but couldnt mend it, whatever it was, and they would have to call in a plumber or whoever to fix it. It was supposed to be ‘feet’ on the bottom.
Feet
, that was what he said, but they didnt work or something or was only three instead of four, it should have been four ‘feet’. Mo was supposed to be getting the name of somebody to do the job but it was taking ages. You couldnt rush these things. Not when guys were doing a favour.

That was the trouble with ‘favours’.

She shouldnt have been using the machine at all but the washing piled high, towels and sheets. She was doing a handwash at the same time. Three clothes-horses my God it was just crazy and couldnt be done. In the old days houses had pulleys on the ceiling.

No rain was scheduled: both washes could have been hung outside to dry, had she begun earlier in the day, first thing in the morning. But it never occurred to her first thing in the morning. Why should it have? First thing in the morning was last thing at night for nightshift workers.

There was a laundrette along the main road and she used their drying machines occasionally. It made a walk for her and Sophie. Nearby was a kebab shop; Sophie enjoyed their pizza and Helen enjoyed a break from having to cook.

Sophie’s bed was to be made. It was awkward having to squeeze into the cupboard, sore on the back. But it was great how Mo and his mates had fitted it in. Men and DIY. Her ex was the epitome. He only did it to show off his biceps. Oh darleeng you are so strong. Helen yawned.

Sophie said, Why do you have to go to work?

To get our money.

But if Mo goes why do you?

The machine would be entering its final spin and she needed to listen to it. As soon as the spin-cycle started she would hold it down. Something was wrong with everything, so what? life was the usual, life was life. Sophie was watching her. She was engaged with a colouring-in book. She had an eye for colour. Helen said, That’s nice colours!

Working at the sink she could see out the window. The kitchen looked across to the backside of the next street, and the row of houses there. Council apartment blocks were there too merging with the others. Women sat out the back together with small children and it was like how Helen had been brought
up in Glasgow; the women did that there. It was nice seeing. Although here they had made wee gardens. If the weather had been warmer and time to spare Helen might have gone across to sit with them. Probably they would have been friendly. They grew herbs and things.

You could stay home, said Sophie. Why cant you? You could play with me and read stories.

That sounds good!

Sophie reached for other coloured pencils, bent her head over the book again. You could Mum.

Helen had expected to tell Mo about Brian but it didnt happen. She waited to say it but it didnt happen. It was her to have said it. It wouldnt if she didnt and she didnt. Why didnt she? Because she didnt, she didnt tell him because she didnt tell him. Anyway, it would have taken too long, him going to work.

She could have started with the folding bed, z-bed. If he knew what a z-bed was. She could have asked him that and then it would have led on to why, like why did she want a folding bed? Because it was useful to have one. If she kicked him out of their bed he would have some place to sleep!

But they were useful, just so practical, if somebody arrived out the blue, family or friends.

Silence. The washing machine was set to enter the final spin. Helen quickly rinsed the blouse and left it on the draining board, and placed both elbows on the right corner of the machine to steady it. Now it started, the spin building to its usual racket, an absolute crescendo, it was horrendous, actually shaking the floor; Helen could feel the trembling and she really had to fight to keep her elbows on the corner. Sophie was smiling. Helen said, I think it’s going to fly up in the air. If it does we can hang on.

Sophie jumped to her feet and started bouncing on the spot.

Stop that! said Helen.

She didnt, she was now hopping, actually hopping! Sophie!
Helen shouted: For goodness sake you’ll go through the damn floor!

Sophie stared at her.

For God sake. Helen shook her head, her elbows pressing hard down on the corner of the machine to contain the movement.

I didnt mean it Mum sorry.

Look at me shaking, said Helen.

Sophie smiled but her upper lip was over her lower lip. Helen reached her left hand to her. Pizza?

Yes Mum please!

My teeth are chattering, said Helen.

Sophie had moved to the pantry cupboard, probably looking for the chocolate biscuits. Helen said, Take a banana if you’re hungry or like plums, there’s plums there too.

Plums?

Or a banana, yes.

I dont want a banana.

Well a plum?

No.

No
thanks
. Remember your manners.

Sophie returned to her dolls and the little chair. Helen watched her. Dont be sulky.

Sophie turned sharply: I’m not being sulky.

Yes you are.

I’m not.

Helen stuck out her tongue. Sophie smiled. The machine shuddered to a halt. Helen watched it. At this point the shaking seemed to increase in momentum: then the end.

There was time for a seat before emptying the machine. The remains of her last coffee. The cup was barely warm. It was amazing to consider but people drank coffee hot. They did! Even to sit a moment, so her mind, just being empty. Empty
minds. Sophie was edging closer to her; she had a book in her hand and was offering it. Helen smiled but not to encourage her.

Sophie waited before saying, Will you read it to me?

I cant just now. I have to empty the machine.

Sophie’s head lowered. Helen said quickly, But if you read it to me, for one wee minute, if you can, can you?

Sophie grinned and opened the book and began reading, stumbling and faltering but reading nevertheless. It was a story about a fish who swam off by herself. It was quite sad. It reminded Helen of a children’s movie from years ago. Perhaps they had stolen the idea. People stole things all the time and you saw it in movies and television programmes and like news events too, they stole news events and made them into movies and drama. This wee fish was rescued from a fishermen’s net off the coast of a Greek island. All the big fish were squashing her. That was so like life. Helen grinned. But even Sophie’s reading, Helen had forgotten how well she was doing, my God, six years of age is all she was like at that age what was Helen doing? she wasnt reading, not as good as this. And with everything she had been through, even to survive! She was just like really, so good, she was, just so so good, she really was. Helen was so lucky, so very very lucky.

BOOK: Mo said she was quirky
6.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Ocho casos de Poirot by Agatha Christie
The Sleepless by Masterton, Graham
The Administrator by S. Joan Popek
Twisted Winter by Catherine Butler
The Lost Code by Kevin Emerson
The Gentle Rebel by Gilbert Morris
Inked In (Tattooed Love) by Knowles, Tamara


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024