Did you get the check? Did you get my check? I’ve almost learned to growl but you avoided it or did not think she was rubbing it in. I could bite this hand that feeds for parading the bill. Did you get that check she kept saying to her I keep forgetting if I’ve asked? My little snarling yes you do. Our mother says go upstairs and leave us to talk, or your brother’s watching telly why don’t you go join him. I’ll do the dishes I’m saying thinking I won’t leave. Keep an eye on what’s said about you and me. I’m unhappy aware there’ll be loyalty smeared somewhere there on our kitchen floor. Not mine. Not to you. Or yours to me. Or her. No go make up the camp bed that’s what you can do for me she says so I do.
I sneak. I snuck. I listened at the door. I heard them. I pondered you should send him to special school. Those marks aren’t fit for a boy that age. Oh such clucking and glucking. Snob and preen herself. I hear my two are off to the convent. Not a ladder in their tights or a pain in their heart. Such brilliance. Unearthly. I snoot them. Aunt and uncle. Chintz for brains I hiss and think. Listening listening. Yes of course they got accepted so naturally I know a mark or two when I see it. Compete it. I’m having bile thoughts. Great green ones of spite and their sloppedy daughters with tongues too long to keep in their mouths. Should we be that so we can be right? We’re clear awful wrong the way we are. Yes they’re having grinds and trips to the orthodontist. One should give one’s children the best in life. Golf. Give them a taste so they can never live without. Shop at such and no sales. Grow them good and wanty. For bungalows near politicians and the captains of industry. Our mother I think foamy at the edge thinks I need this like a hole in the head. Yabber yabber put the teapot down and take out the biscuit tin. She treads it calm and forth with hmm and yes and is that right? No says aunt as long as they have their degrees. Shop floor management or whatever history. Degrees the thing and tra la la — what are the chances yours’ll do that?
I’m raging. I’m spitting. Come in slinging the door. Oh are they really aunt and uncle how was it they got in the convent when they only got D’s. Just lucky? Didn’t you pay for them in? You shut up don’t be so cheeky. Your aunt’s thoughts are for the best. Is that so? Is it that? Why is she always doing him down? And me. Getting podgy! And you taking it all in. Sucking it up. You cow come here eat your tea and say we’re all these sorts of things. Go to your room. Go right there now. I mean it. Straight away.
I’m flooding the hallway up those stairs to my room see their bags shout fuck off through the floor so they’ll hear, they’ll hear me and know what I mean. You snobs. Bastards. I’ll say the bad words I have. Coming here. What? says you stick your head through the door. No-thing. Nothing for you to know. Go back to the telly and leave me alone.
I’m sitting for ages and sob and whine. Til the back door click. They have gone out. And you went with them I know. In the room I sit alone. Quiet and listening to the groans of the floor and the rattle of water running hot through the pipes. Six o’clock now and.
I hear his footfall. The banisters creak. Definitely his feet not yours. I chew my lip.
Tap on my door. Tap tapping he push it through. Are you here? Are you alright? Thought I’d see if you’re. I’m fine. Well now. What? That’s quite a moment to treat us to and on the first day. I know it. Can I come in? Alright, do. Your aunt’s a bit of a madam gibbet. Hang ‘em always. Hang ‘em high. I laugh at him and his aunt stranger wife. Meaner than true. Why does she? She doesn’t mean to. Doesn’t think it, never has, through well. She has to make a big competition between us and your girls it’s not. I know that but. She’s very fond of you, underneath. Nice way to show it. I’ll have a word about. Sorry. Me too. And breathe in out.
Shouldn’t we be friends? I am your uncle after all. But it’s the first time that we’ve met. No, I’ve seen you before. When? When you were born before we went abroad. I don’t remember. You were only small. Do you like England? I do. What do you do? All sorts of things and do you do? I go to school. I knew that. Yes you did. You’ve quite a lip. Someone has to. Why? Just the way things are… I see. I’m sorry to have asked. I’m sorry I shouted. I know she’s your wife but I don’t like her. Oh she’s. Not that bad. So you said. You’re a funny girl. Why’s that then? Cheeky madam. Maybe I am. Oh you are. Well that’s me. Good for you can I ask you. What? Do you climb out that window to meet your boyfriends at night? Shy me and do not say for no would be diminishment of some kind in his eyes. Smiling’s best when. I do that. Watch him. Smiling eyes. And he just smiled at me.
We went to school. We went on that bus. In the cold lunch break they are kicking football on the muck pitch. You run. Run. Run. That bad eye I know cannot keep up with a ball nor does it see one of them and his doing you for the crowd. Behind your back. For their laughter is a mighty thing to invoke. Your little limp. Sometimes the way you shake your head. It’s brilliant that the worst one on the whole field doesn’t know it. See him do it. For their roaring. For their great lads fun. He does your voice like a thick tongue. Pass it here lads after you say it. They kick it to keep you to and fro. No one’s playing. Only you now but you don’t know. Round of laughing. I see you stop then. Something twigging within. Look around. To the clumps of them doubled-up in two quaking squealing. Happy pigs getting fed on you. The way your hand hangs down or you stumble on a ruck. He smears a muck bit down his forehead for the scar that you’ve got. Jesus fucking spastic Christ. And you were saying, what is it? Hey lads what’s going on? The more they look the more they laugh. You now getting all het up. Can smell the joke descend on you. How did you get your scar again? A knife. A knife? Oh was it? Very funny. I heard you got your brain cut up. Did not. That you’re brain-damaged. I am not. You’re a brain-damaged liar. No listen you said. Handicapped. Ugh they’re sticking tongues in their bottom lips. You stumbling towards them. Not thinking. Thinking how to stop them say at this. In the mud you stumbled over. Caught yourself. Stood back up straight. Listen. Listen lads. All they say is uuuuuggggh. I could kill them for this or you. I could roar. I could cry. I do not. Anything at all. Just stand feel it worse and worse. Thinking of the scald and full of shame. Was it yours or mine? Think please just leave the pitch. Please just walk away. It won’t be worse than standing there. But you’re still trying. Fumbling red for words. He’s doing you even as you speak now, to your face. My throat. Is blank. Is sown up. You shouting what’s so funny? I nearly died. I still could. It’s still in me. It isn’t funny and then, for pity, say why are you laughing about me? They are and laughing more. Your anger permits. Gives goals and goals. Your face red thick. Bulged indignated. The bullish face fat with humiliation. Handicap. Handicap. One from the back gets the ball. Kicks and aims. It strikes your face. Bleared with mud. And knock you over. Laughter. Laughter. Never ever will it stop. Not ever. Not ever again. The bell rings and release for you from that place. I close my eyes and wish this day had never been or you or me. I walk back and will not help. Pretend I didn’t even see. Did you see me? Look at them hear them talking just a bit embarrassed about it. About what they done. And I will not think of your feelings anymore. For it’s a bit too much to know.
I ride the bus. It’s condensation. Smother. You sitting just behind. And quiet. You don’t say a word. I’m turned from it. That did not happen to you or me today. I think. I will not think of you. I think. Uncle. What would you think of me sit thinking of you? My head at work and turned away from everything happening here. Their cigarette smoke roaming up from the back for you. For a way to spit in your eye I think splitly. It gives me. No. Turn from that and turn away. The eye go in. What? How much secret pleasure to stare at uncle in my mind’s eye. Think of him come across the room. I have him. Scrutinize. I am smiling. It is from. What are you laughing at? as we climb off the slime bus. At nothing why what’s wrong with you? I let you walk ahead. I don’t know. Let you just. What’s in me? There’s something twist. Must move or shake him. Uncle. Think. I must give him some surprise.