Poking Seaweed with a Stick and Running Away from the Smell (12 page)

27
Joan Crawford's lips

Mum used to keep her make-up in a huge box in the bathroom and she used to put her make-up on every day before she did anything else, 'cause Mum said once she had her make-up on, she could face Goliath. When I asked who Goliath was she told me if I'd gone to the Sunday school instead of watching
Randall and Hopkirk (Deceased)
, then I'd know fine well who he was. Mum had every colour of eyeshadow you could care to imagine in that box and she had lipsticks too, as far as the eye could see, and sometimes me and Izzy would spend hours looking through that box and trying on the different colours. Once I tried on Mum's blue eyeshadow and I looked like Giovanni's wife at the chip shop on the corner and another time Izzy tried on the emerald green and she looked like Mrs Berry the chemistry teacher.

One day when I came home from school Mum wasn't there so I did my homework and when I was finished, I went to the bathroom, took out her make-up box and raked through it, wondering what colours might suit me that day. That's when I found the lipstick called Hollywood Red and it looked just like the lipstick Joan Crawford wore in
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?
, Mum's favourite movie. I took it out of the box, twisted off the lid and marvelled at the redness, and I ran that creamy lipstick up the inside of my forearm and the redness stood out against my white skin like fresh blood on snow. I held it to my lips to see if it might suit me, then ran it around my lips all the while hoping it might make me look like Joan Crawford. When I was finished I stepped back from the mirror and tilted my head to the side like Mum always did when she finished putting her lipstick on and I stared at my reflection. My Joan Crawford lips looked so good, so glamorous, that I couldn't help but smile and for the first time in my life, I dared think myself beautiful. Then I started to dream about Joan Crawford and I closed my eyes and made a wish that some day I'd be rich and famous too, and that people would queue up at The Roxy to see me on the big screen on a Saturday night with my Hollywood Red lips. And after my movie premieres hundreds of fans would line up and beg me for my autograph and I'd have to say to them, I don't have time just at the minute to be signing photographs, 'cause I've Peter Cushing to meet for a Babycham in the lobby bar.

I had left the door to the bathroom half open and next thing I knew my da was storming in through the front door of the house and when he saw me in the bathroom staring at myself in the mirror wearing my Joan Crawford lips, he pushed the door wide open and told me I was nothing but a filthy fucking whore and to get that muck washed off my fucking face right there and then. Then he stormed out of the bathroom slamming the door behind him. I raced to the door to lock it, then leaned back against it and cried with shame 'cause maybe he was right, maybe I was a filthy whore standing there admiring myself in the mirror thinking I'm Joan Crawford sipping Babychams with Peter Cushing of all people in lobby bars.

I stood up from the bathroom floor and took a piece of toilet paper and I tried to rub that Hollywood Red lipstick off, but the colour was so red and so creamy it stuck to my lips like glue and instead of coming off I smudged it all over my mouth and my chin and all the while I cried more tears of shame. That's when Mum arrived home and when she heard my cries she came running. She knocked on the bathroom door and I was too ashamed to come out in case she saw me and thought me a filthy whore too, so I shouted out to her from inside the bathroom that I was okay and waited quietly until I heard her go away. Then I stood in front of the mirror and I scrubbed and scrubbed at my lips until they bled and I tilted my head to the side and stared at my reflection again and the blood-stained lips stared back at me and I vowed I'd never dare think myself beautiful again.

28
The Bonnie Prince Charlie

My da's pal Harry had a big concrete shed for sale and he offered it dirt cheap to my da who took it straight away and had it put up on our land. Once it was finished a man appeared from the council carrying a clipboard and he asked my da if he had permission to put the shed up and my da told him to fuck right off, else he'd set the dogs on him. The man from the council never came back and so my da used the shed to go into business with his pal Franky, selling wholesale fruit and vegetables to fruit and vegetable shops far and wide.

Franky had been our family friend for years and what a great laugh he was. Whenever he came to our house he'd have us all in stitches with the stories he'd tell, and he was the kind of guy you could talk to about anything and he always made you feel good. Franky was more like family than a friend. That's how great he was.

And then matters started to go wrong in the business. One day my da found out that Franky was stealing money from the bank account and so that night he spoke with Franky on the phone and confronted him about the money and Franky said he wouldn't discuss it on the phone but that my da should meet him in the car park at The Bonnie Prince Charlie pub and that he should come alone.

So my da had a whisky or maybe it was two and when he was finished he put on his jacket and he headed to the car. I ran after him 'cause I was worried, and told him I was coming too. As we walked past the shed my da picked up a garden spade and a pair of scissors and that's when I got scared and I asked my da what he was planning to do with a garden spade and a pair of scissors, but he didn't say anything and I wondered what was going to happen that night in that car park at The Bonnie Prince Charlie. We got into the car, me and my da, and just as we were about to turn out of our driveway my da opened the door and threw the garden spade and the scissors behind the gate and said, ‘You're right enough, there's no need for that.' And when I heard my da say that I felt relieved and I knew that everything was going to be okay.

It only took us five minutes to drive there and when we arrived I was surprised to see Franky's brother Jack was there too and in a way I was glad, 'cause that meant I could have a right good laugh with Jack while Franky and my da sorted out their differences. And as me and my da got out of the car Franky and Jack got out of their car too and I smiled and waved at them, I mean why wouldn't I, Franky and Jack were our friends, in fact they were more like family than friends. That's how great they were.

Franky motioned for my da to follow him to the opposite side of the car park and so I made my way towards Jack so I could have that right good laugh and as I approached I said to Jack, ‘I wonder what this is all about, eh?' And Jack might have said something back to me but to be honest, I don't know. I got distracted by a sound, you see, and I turned around to see where the sound was coming from and that's when I started to shut down and I wished I wasn't there.

The sound I'd heard was my da trying to struggle from Franky's grip and I watched Franky as he took my da by the throat and pushed him down on to the gravel. I wanted to scream but nothing came out, like how it happens in dreams sometimes when you're being chased by monsters and you're running as fast as you can, but you're getting nowhere. Time slowed down. I wanted it to move on but time doesn't work like that when bad things are happening, it moves slowly in a defiant way that makes your heart ache for love and safety. I stood still, motionless like the clock on the wall I couldn't see, and next I knew I saw Franky kneel on top of my da and hold him down in the gravel with his left hand as his right hand ever so precisely reached behind his back and into the waistband of his trousers where he'd concealed the hammer. I watched Franky as he held the hammer high above his head before bringing it crashing down onto my da's skull and that's when I started to run and my legs were heavy like lead just like in those dreams with the monsters again. I struggled against the lead and I managed to run and I reached Franky and my da just in time for Franky to lay the second blow to my da's already bleeding skull. My da didn't let out a sound and I knew he was trying to be brave for me and then Franky lifted the hammer again and crashed it down a third time onto my da's skull and this time my da did let out a scream and I mean that's nothing to be ashamed of. Sure, other people's daddies get scared sometimes too.

And I didn't know what to do. Sometimes, when I think about it now, I know there were other things I could have done. I mean there was the gravel, I could have picked some up and thrown it in Franky's eyes. I could have picked up one of the big huge rocks that lined the car park and smashed it down on Franky's skull. I could have run to the pub across the road to get help. But then four of the patrons were already standing at the door of the pub watching the horror as it unfolded, sipping on their pints and chatting amongst themselves and none of them came to help me or my da.

In the end, all I could think of was to try to pull Franky off and Franky was a big man, nearly 25 stone Mum said once, and so I stood behind him as he kneeled on my da with his hammer in his hand and I dug my fingers into his temples and I felt his thin white skin come away in my ­fingernails and that's when Franky turned towards me and held his hammer high above his head and tried to bring it crashing down on my skull and so I stepped back out of the hammer's way. And then he came at me again with that hammer of his and I backed away a little more trying to avoid the hammer, thinking about myself as usual instead of my da who needed me beside him. From my safe distance I watched my da as he lay there, his body recoiled in pain, with the white gravel turning red beneath his head and his mouth wide open, as if screaming in pain. But I didn't hear a sound.

All of a sudden Jack appeared beside Franky, and when I saw Jack's familiar face, the face of our friend who was nearly like family, I knew he had come to help me. But Jack hadn't come to help and I watched him as he took a baseball bat from behind his back and join his brother as they carried on in their mission. I knew that Jack was ashamed 'cause he couldn't look me in the eye and once he and Franky had dealt enough blows to my da's skull and knee caps, it was Jack who called off the assault, screaming to his brother that that was enough now. Then the two of them took off, running to their white Ford Escort, and they left me with my da bleeding into the gravel in the car park at The Bonnie Prince Charlie.

It's all a little hazy and distant now, the memory is fading back into its box for another wee while, and the fear and horror are retreating to that place where they live, lying in wait, and there's a lot of stuff I'll never understand about that night. However, this I do know. I know that I stayed and I watched this happen and although I did the best I could, there's a wee voice inside my head that tells me what I did just wasn't enough. That awful voice reminds me that just as the hammer came towards me I stepped to the side, away from my da, to avoid its blow. And from now until the end of time I'll wish I'd taken that blow to the head, 'cause it would have been one less blow my da would have had to take.

And I'm wondering now if I screamed as all of this was happening, but I doubt if I did. Maybe if I had screamed then, I wouldn't be screaming now.

29
Brief encounter

One day Nanny took ill and her back was so sore she couldn't find comfort no matter which way she lay and the pain was so bad she couldn't make it down the lane any more. The doctor came and said Nanny would have to have some tests, so Mum took Nanny to the specialist and when the tests were over the specialist phoned Mum and told her he needed to speak to her straightaway.

I was working in my da's fruit and vegetable shop that day like I had every day since I left school, even though I wished I had a nice job as a secretary putting on high-heeled shoes and Sheer Brazil Nut tights every day of the week. When Mum came back to the shop after speaking with the specialist she had tears in her eyes and she told us that Nanny had cancer in her pancreas, and when I heard that I sat down on the 56-pound sacks of Ayrshire potatoes we'd made up into three-pound bags that morning to sell on the weekend and I held my hands up to my face and wept into them, and just then a customer came into the shop and my da was mad, 'cause it was him who had to go and serve them, while I lay there on the potatoes in tears.

The cancer in Nanny's pancreas got worse while all the unrest was going on at home between Bruce and my da. The doctors said there was nothing they could do for her and that she'd be better off in her own bed at home rather than staring at the white sterile walls of a hospital ward. When she got home I spent nearly every evening with her in her bedroom with the telly on and some nights we watched our favourite movie,
Brief Encounter
, and Nanny would send Grampa out to Botterill's bottle shop to get a bottle of sweet sherry, ‘for the lassies'. Grampa did as he was told and he strolled there slowly, smoking his Embassy Regal as he went, and when he got back with the sherry Mum and I would have a glass but Nanny wouldn't 'cause Nanny never drank a day in her life. Some nights I'd take Cleo our black mongrel in to see Nanny and she'd jump up on Nanny's candlewick bedspread and Nanny would laugh and she'd tell me Cleo was ‘skinny like a whippet' and then she'd laugh all the more and Cleo would settle herself down for the night on the bed right between Nanny and me and she'd lick the bedspread in the hope of finding a crumb.

Nanny ended up in so much pain, a nurse had to come and look after her during the nights and the nurse gave Nanny morphine. She told us it was the morphine and not the cancer that would eventually kill Nanny and I didn't know whether to be happy or sad, 'cause I couldn't bear to see Nanny suffer like that and at the same time I couldn't bear to imagine her dead.

Two weeks passed and we knew that the end was near and the nurse said she would have to call an ambulance to come and take Nanny to the hospital. Before the ambulance came the nurse wrapped what was left of Nanny's tiny body in a blanket and the ambulance men gently placed Nanny on a stretcher and took her to the waiting ambulance and Cleo jumped at the stretcher and tried to lick Nanny's hand and Nanny smiled and I knew if she could have, she would have laughed and said that Cleo was ‘skinny like a whippet'.

But Nanny had barely the energy to breathe, never mind laugh. Grampa stood and watched the ambulance carry his wife of 60 years away from him and when the ambulance disappeared into the horizon he put on his jacket, lit up an Embassy Regal and walked down to Botterill's to get a bottle of sweet sherry in ‘for the lassies', 'cause he knew that's what Nanny would have wanted.

The doctor at the hospital put an oxygen mask on Nanny so she could breathe a little easier and they gave her more morphine to try to ease her pain. Bruce and my da joined me and Mum and Grampa at Nanny's bedside that night during the visiting hour and even though she was weak, she lifted her finger and pointed to each and every one of us and told us that she hoped her suffering meant that none of us would ever have to suffer the same agony in our own lives and of course she included my da in that and why wouldn't she, she was the kindest, most generous woman I've ever known. And she told my da and Bruce to sort out their differences, that she wanted them to make up and to talk again and my da stood there like a wee boy in the headmaster's office with his head hung low and he agreed he'd make an effort just for her.

Nanny died the next day while I was having my tooth filled at Dr Dunn's the dentist on the Glasgow Road. Had I known she would pass away at three o'clock that afternoon, I would have rubbed my tooth with oil of cloves and ignored the pain that had kept me awake for half the night, but I didn't, and so I missed Nanny's last moments on earth and my last chance to tell her how much I had loved her.

Later that night me and Cleo went next door to Nanny's house and into her bedroom and the room felt sad and bare, like when you take down the Christmas tree and the fairy lights twelve days after Christmas. I put the telly on and slotted in Nanny's copy of
Brief Encounter
and I played our movie one last time and I thought about Nanny and how I didn't get to say goodbye to her, not really, not properly, and I wished I could have those days back again, just Nanny, me and Cleo up on the candlewick bedspread with a wee glass of sherry in my hand. As I sat on the bed I stroked Cleo's head and told her how much I had loved Nanny and how much I learnt from her and Cleo licked the pillow where Nanny's head had been, 'cause she missed Nanny too.

With Nanny gone the days seemed long and sometimes I made the trip myself down the cobbled laneway to the market where Nanny spent nearly every day, just to listen to the hustle and bustle. Sometimes I imagined Nanny there beside me as I raked through Jessie's jumpers and cardigans and one day Jessie asked me if I was interested in any bras and briefs she'd just got in at five pounds the set and I thanked her very much and told her I wasn't in the market for bras and briefs that day. Then I went past Whistling Tommy's stall and remembered the time Nanny was searching for catering-sized pickled gherkins for Maria the art teacher and I couldn't remember if she'd ever got them.

I walked around for hours in the lane wearing my beanie and my winter coat and I thought about Nanny all the while and how much I missed her and as I wandered further up the lane I saw a drunk man begging, his trousers in tatters and his shoes with no soles, and as I walked past him I pulled out a couple of coins from the pocket of my winter coat and placed them discreetly in his out-held hand.

Bruce and my da kept the promise they'd made to Nanny to try to get along, but still my da refused to sign over the title deeds to Bruce's bungalow. Finally, with much to-ing and fro-ing with me as the messenger, my da agreed to sign over the title deeds to the old cottage that we used to live in before we built the bungalows and that title deed included a tiny portion of my da's two-and-a-half acres and on that tiny portion stood the greenhouses where Rusty and Silver used to live.

The living arrangements for Grampa and Bruce were quite cramped in their new home but it was better than before. Now they owned the house they slept in and they set up a little business in the greenhouses selling plants and herbs. Bruce and Grampa knew everything there was to know about every plant and herb they sold and people came from miles around to ask their advice.

Slowly, Bruce started to feel better about life and he painted his living-room walls lilac again and this time we didn't laugh 'cause we knew that Bruce wasn't just artistic, but a man whose heart knew forgiveness and Bruce was Nanny's son if ever there was one.

So in the end my da got his dream to keep the title deeds to both the semi-detached bungalows and some days he strutted up and down his land just for the pleasure of it, like lord of the fucking manor. And the bastard slept like a baby every night in the week.