“So how are the lessons going then?” Judith asked.
“I’ve been round at the Currans house every other day for the past month. Like a fool, I actually forgot that I was round there to be punished, until last week.”
“Why, what happened last week?”
“Carina was struggling to get a grasp of a sketching technique I was showing her and then she erupted. She said she had more contempt for me than for Bob Fitzgerald, and that she’d only asked me to teach her how to paint so that she could see just how far I’d crawl for absolution. She reckons that the fact I even want forgiveness indicates that I’m not really contrite at all. In her opinion, a truly contrite man would accept his guilt as just rewards and suffer in silence, not go trying to buy peace of mind by dropping money through people’s letterboxes. She said that the only person I was really concerned about was myself, and even though she’s since apologised, she’s right. I used her tragic situation to get cash and never gave her another thought. Then, when I learnt where it came from I tried to use her to get rid of it. Just as Bob and other men exploited Carina for sex, I’ve been exploiting the poor girl for my own salvation.”
“So what happens now?”
“Well, I either suffer in silence like Carina says, or I put myself in the same misery as those I’ve profited from. I think the latter is probably the only way my remorse can ever be seen as sincere.”
“Or, you could just forget all this nonsense and start living like a normal human being.” Judith jumped up from the bed, turning to face Danny. “Bob Fitzgerald’s right. What makes you think you’re so bloody special? That you’re entitled to a life of virtue? You’re fast enough to forgive everyone else’s sins, why not your own? Can’t you see how arrogant that is? I mean, why’s it wrong for you to spend McLeod’s money, but ok for Katy and the Cruickshanks to have it? I’ve as much to feel guilty about as you. I was complicit in the blackmail and I enjoyed the proceeds of drugs money.”
“No, no…it’s not the same.”
Judith laughed, flabbergasted. “You think you’re better than me don’t you.”
“Eh?”
“It’s ok for me and everyone else to sin because, we know not what we do. But you, you’re a superior being. There’s no excuse for you.”
“That’s because of my Christian, socialist upbringing! Have you still not got that? It’s all about caring for others while flagellating yourself. Remember what I told you about Crazy Ferguson hitting me with a bottle? How my mother said it had served me right for defending the enemy against my own? Well, it would have been the same had I just stood back and allowed him to slash Bob. Then she’d he have recited the story of the Good Samaritan and condemned me for being a poor Christian. And that’s how my life’s been for the past forty three years Judith, looking for the best in everyone else and the worst in myself… stopping during every experience and wondering: what would mum think of this? Am I a true socialist? Am I good Christian?”
“You can shake it off! I saw the change in you at Gairloch…it was amazing!”
“I must admit, I had started enjoying things without constantly consulting her in my head. I could still hear her talking, but she had to compete with the kids’ voices. In the end they were having far more of an influence over me than I ever could have had over them. Thanks to Hamish, Ryan, Angie and yourself, their intellects were expanding, exposing my own mind as stagnant by contrast. They had myriad points of view to offer at the dinner table debates, where as I was trotting out the same tired old Marxist mantras, like a priest performing his thousandth communion. To keep up, I had to become more flexible in my thinking and consequently felt much lighter as a person. I thought that glass of Haut-Brion I drank was symbolic of the great change which had taken place within me. But then Bob turned up, almost as if my mother had sent him to remind me that in a capitalist world, one man’s pleasure is always at the expense of other men’s misery.” Danny poked a forefinger against his temple. “And now she’s the only voice in there again, shouting louder than ever, each second of the day.”
“Well I think it’s time you heard some new voices then. I’m off to Iceland in the morning, and I know for a fact that there are still seats on my flight. Why don’t you come along?”
“I’ve never been out of Scotland before…I’d never been out of Glasgow except for Gairloch.”
Judith laughed. “You’re not scared of flying are you?”
Danny stared forlornly at her. “Ma always said that folk who holidayed abroad were traitors to their community. She reckoned that every penny earned in Glasgow should stay in Glasgow, not be used to subsidise the development of some Mediterranean fishing village, while our own city was rotting and shrinking. Old Annie hated the fact that people spent fifty weeks a year daydreaming about their fortnight in Majorca or the Costa Del Sol, when they should have been living in the here and now and improving one another’s lives. Of course, I inherited this outlook and never hesitated to castigate anyone who was about to embark on their annual, lifesaving break from everything oppressive about Scotland. So, as I’m sure you’ll understand, it would be unforgivably hypocritical of me to jump on a plane now.”
“Weren’t you going to follow Ingrid to Italy that time, only there was no one to look after your mother?”
“Not finding anyone to look after my ma was only half the story. Truth is I was as petrified of being sneered at as a hypocrite then as I am now. That’s the real reason I never followed her to Italy.”
This impossible mind-set was draining Judith, so she left before he could depress her any further and concentrated on Iceland.
CHAPTER: 17
Iceland’s mountains, glaciers and near twenty-four hour daylight erased all things Danny from Judith’s mind, until the flight back to Glasgow, when he re-established himself in the most tragic manner. She’d picked up a Daily Herald on boarding and it was there, in a tiny square at the bottom right hand corner of page-seven that she read the shocking news: