She shivered, drew the coat about her shoulders, raising her knees, snuggling in on herself; better snuggling in with Mo, he was like feverish he was so warm; he was, you worried if he was catching the flu. She did anyway, but she worried about everything, anything and everything, everything and anything, the slightest shiver, life is full of shivers. She was comfy where she was, except the headache, which was only slight. They would be up soon for school; Sophie had to be there by eight thirty.
If it was Brian.
Life is so weird. Families especially, what families are. You looked at photographs but what did you see?
He just went away. What happened? Nobody said anything and you were not to talk about it. If there was a phone call Mum was to take it but not in front of Dad. Even his name, you were not to speak his name. What were you not to think about him, your own brother? Helen did. Of course she did, she was his sister; did that not count for anything? She would have spoken about him to Mum except Mum never spoke about anything. Not to Helen anyway. Oh well of course she did, but not much.
And she thought about Brian. It was obvious. She sat in her armchair with the television on and the magazine in her lap but she wasnt looking at them and wasnt thinking about them, only about Brian. And why shouldnt she my God he was her son!
Even after Dad died and it was only the two of them. So unfair; it really was. And selfish. Mum was Brian’s mother but Helen was his sister. Why should she be excluded? She was excluded, Mum excluded her. Even the marriage; parents should be happy at their daughter’s marriage. Oh God. Resentments were the worst. One day she would tell Mo. He just didnt understand it because with families, his was like a world of difference, a total world away.
Parents could be unfair. It was the one thing with Sophie, if ever Helen had another child, she would not treat her unfairly. That was so wrong, the very worst. Children knew. It doesnt matter if the injustice is to another, it is every bit as horrible. It was like that with Dad towards Brian, and it was horrible to see. Why did a parent do that? It so spoiled things. And Dad smiling to her as if she was on his side, and she wasnt; she wasnt on anybody’s side; it just wasnt fair, and when she got older too
Brian was a good brother and she loved him. Her memories from childhood were fond. The photographs were there and there was nothing to say otherwise. He was so tall and she was so wee, he was the horse and he went galloping with her. She was up on his shoulders clinging on, oh clinging on because of how he galloped and the force threw her back and she had to hold on, hold on, gripping his forehead and him just laughing and galloping. My horsie; she shouted that.
Oh and she would not fall, she would never fall, he wouldnt let her.
There was nothing about his behaviour. If it ever crossed anybody’s mind. If they ever thought anything. What could they think, it was just horrible, if it was his head or neck and her legs, just a little girl, that was all she was, if her legs were wrapped round him, that was nothing, it was just nothing, if ever people thought such a thing.
Unless Dad, if it was something with him but there was nothing with him. It was only the favouritism. She was her daddy’s girl and Brian was a big boy. What was unusual about that? Would any dad be different? She was his girl; that was how he said it, You are my wee girl. And he called her ‘jellybelly’. Mum didnt like him saying it. Why not? ‘Jellybelly’. What was wrong with it, ‘jellybelly’ like it was her fault, it wasnt her fault, how could it be, she didnt ask for it my God it was only fun, father to daughter. It wasnt rude, did Mum think it was rude?
There was a coldness in Mum. With Sophie too. There wasnt the sparkle when she phoned, not what you might expect from a grandmother. She hardly asked a question; what are you doing in school, have you got a best friend. Nothing like that. She was tough. Helen would never have been so tough, not on a child. Perhaps if it was a grandson Mum would have acted differently; she preferred boys, or seemed to.
Oh well, nothing could be done about that. Boys were supposed to get on with things and not bother. Perhaps that was it. If it was even true. Children are children. Sophie was quite girlish but why not if she was a girl? A girl was allowed to be a girl, my God, what do people want?
None of Helen’s toys ever remained in Mum’s house, not even as keepsakes. Although why else would they have been kept? For sentimental value? That was a joke, Mum and sentimentality.
It was so unfair. What had she ever done? Nothing, except wanting things to be nice. They were if people tried. People didnt try. Why didnt they? Helen could never understand that. Only if they tried, if people tried. Mum never tried.
It was so different for Mo with his cousins and uncles and aunties. Relations still wrote to his parents from Pakistan. They kept in touch with one another. Mo knew some of their names and could speak about them as if they were ordinary relations and they werent, he had never seen them. Even his father hadnt seen some of them. It was amazing and wonderful. And quite strange really. Helen had nothing like that, except the cousins in New Zealand and the pile of ones in Australia. She spoke to Mum about it but they were Dad’s relations and Mum had lost their address, or didnt have it in the first place. It would have been nice to make the contact.
Helen wouldnt phone her about Brian. Not if it wasnt him: why raise her hopes? She should only be told if it was him for certain. It was so unlikely. All those years. Why had he not been in touch? You shouldnt act like that to your own family, your mother a widow. That was so selfish. If he did hold a grudge it was against Dad but Dad was dead. He knew Dad was dead. The police traced him and told him. He had the choice to go to the funeral; it was his decision not to. He came home for Grannie’s. So it was a grudge. But not against the whole family, surely? That was so very foolish. And not normal. Helen was only twelve years old when he left home. It should have been her grudge to him! He never got in touch with her. Imagine that, his wee sister. Did he even know she was a mother! He couldnt have. Not unless Mum told him. He was Sophie’s uncle for God sake surely that was something? That was like a miraculous thing, another human being. It was miraculous. Miraculous is miracle. A new human being in the world is a miracle. Surely a brother would want to know about that? His very own niece. Of course he would.
He had been a good brother to Helen and he would love Sophie. He would. It wasnt too much to say. This is the way brothers and sisters are. If ever they hate each other they love each other, they really do. Brian was quiet and went his own way but he would be tender. He had been. That was what Dad didnt understand. Dad was not tender, you wouldnt say it about him but you would about Brian.
Of course Helen would help him. Of course she would. Whatever his troubles were my God he was her brother, if times were hard for him; they knew about hard times, her and Mo. Perhaps Brian couldnt stay with them but they could help in other ways and they would, Helen would make sure of that.
Mo and Brian would get on well together. Mo was easy-going. Brian would like him and be so comfortable with him. Mo knew London like the back of his hand and would take him places.
If they had had more space; life would have been easier if they had — unless he slept on the kitchen floor. Because where else? Then Helen coming home in early morning and not able to sit, not able to have a cup of tea, and wee Sophie coming in in her underclothes. That would have been so awkward. Really, it would have been.