She waited for him to say something but he didnt. I’m not bothered, she said, only it would be good to know like I dont care about meeting them, not if you dont want me to but if it’s only the neighbours and worrying what they’ll say. If that is all it is.
Again she waited. She adjusted her pillow and smiled: Now you wont talk to me.
Yeh I will, I will, but make it later.
She settled down on her back.
You took me by surprise. I want it the best way, he said, like when things are good love not now like now, I mean, everything’s going on all the time, you know how it is. I want it to be right when it happens.
When what happens? Do you mean when I meet them? when we meet them, because Sophie will be there too.
Of course.
Things are never right Mo, not like that, because that isnt life. Not in families; there are too many people and too many lives, all different, and you cant wait for one because everybody else’s goes on, it doesnt stop just because of you, because of one person. People think that but it’s not true and like
Helen shut her eyes.
What is it?
Clenching her eyelids shut.
Hey love. Hey … We’ll talk later, you need a sleep.
Mo’s hand on her shoulder. He didnt smile when she looked at him. He would have wanted to but didnt, was not able to. She raised her hand to his face and smoothed his cheek, then pulled the sheet to her chin, turned onto her side. His hand touched her forehead. Thanks, she said. She heard him leave the room.
Anyway, she didnt care about it. Not really. And it was a bad time for his family because with Mo’s uncle and the cancer, it was true, his mother and father were up and down to the hospital most days of the week, so her being critical, it wasnt fair. It wasnt. She shouldnt have said it. Silly. Worse than silly. She was worse than silly. What was worse than silly? She was. Everything was going on for his mother and father and him too. She shouldnt have raised the matter, better telling him about Brian. Brian was who she
She should have told him. She meant to, she thought she was going to; she started off to, to tell him.
She didnt need Mo’s opinion. Because there was nothing else, only to find him, she had to find him, she knew she did. Brothers are brothers, that would have been Mo. You have to find him. If it is him it is him: he is your brother.
And a good brother. Only things had been tough for him, like they are for most people. One person cant do anything, something but not everything.
He had survived. He was not a weakling. However he managed, he did it, and was managing now, him and the other one, they were managing else they wouldnt have been there at the traffic lights, from wherever they had come, they had come from somewhere. Soup and bread. Shelters for the homeless. They would have been someplace.
Except if they had nowhere, people can have nowhere. So where do they go? Why one place and not another? If there is nothing there, so like no reason, if they have no reason, just walking about else sitting down. Or if they sold the Big Issue. But some arent allowed. They scare people too much. Nobody would buy the magazine, not if the ones selling it are scary-looking, too scary-looking, if it is like daylight, the police would move them on. They walk about and keep out the way until it is safe, using side streets, all the quiet places, the riverbank, and if there were benches to sit, him with the limp, he had to rest, then if it was raining, what if it was raining, and the toilet, where do people go?
Helen shifted her position and felt his side of the bed still warm. Had she been dozing? That was a while ago the outside door shut; how long? she couldnt remember. But it did shut, she heard it. Unless she had been dozing. That would have been good, and so needed, so so needed.
Over the grass and to the sand. She had been dreaming. Cutting grass. Sand grass is cutting grass. Grass-shoots out the sand, they cut your skin; draw one fast and you bled. That was Brian showing her how, cutting his own skin on purpose, making it bleed. Wee globules along the line, the red line. Blood. Was that a grown-up thing to do? A big brother? Of course not.
So much for Mum.
She wasnt in the dream except her presence, the idea of her and her arms outstretched like in a religious picture the woman with folded gowns and her hands out to you.
Helen could dream while dealing the cards. Times of the month and after sex. Men got relaxed, women the opposite. What is the opposite of relax?
Ha ha to men.
If Mum liked anybody it was males. You would have thought a granddaughter. No. How sad. Poor Mum. Because she was the loser, if she didnt know it. All wrapped up, a coat of chainmail, not letting anybody near, keep your distance keep your distance. If that is what you call it, chainmail; chains male. Chains were male; males locked you up, they locked you into them, they did it with their chains, chaining you. The wife chained to a wall and then he bricked it up and she was suffocated there, unable to move until her dying day, her screams never heard. So horrible. Imagine her agony. The husband had gone mad. He always was. But that poor woman: what had she done? nothing at all, except being married to him, I divorce you I divorce you I divorce you. So why had she to die in such horrible agony like if it was him gone mad? Not her. That was so unfair. No wonder you got haunted houses. People said it about buildings, bricks and mortar, how a house could have a presence. Because the spirits were restless. You could have thought it about this house, considering the countless people who had passed through the doors. How many since it was built? All that suffering. People living and dying, diseases and degenerative conditions. People died in the olden days. If it was appendicitis, they died, the doctors didnt know to remove the appendix. That was so so sad. Yet with the tonsils, they took them out but didnt have to; it made no difference if the doctor took them out or left them in. People were ignorant. But happy too. Sad and happy, through all the years, all the different people. And scared! Children especially. In this one building how many children had been terrified out their wits? How many! It was a terrifying thought and there was an excruciating thing about it like how they locked them up too, forced into cupboards and cages, homemade cages.
Cages for children my God that was so evil. Who would do it to them? What animals! Men did it. Women helped. That was the worst. Whoever would terrify a child? It was the most sickening thing. Imagine terrifying a child. Who would do that? What kind of monster? bestial. They would have to be sick. Mentally ill. And not just ordinary mentally ill. Ordinary mentally ill people wouldnt act in that way toward children; it needed a special type of mental illness, like Nazis and torturers. The men who tortured people were mentally ill, even those not classified as such and in ordinary jobs. Soldiers and policemen were like that; priests, schoolteachers too, some of them, and they terrified people, then paedophiles. Horrors, torturers; what else was a paedophile? They were torturers of children, they were just vile, coming in the night and coming to children, hearing the handle of your door, just so so vile, and ill, if they were, or just torturers, are torturers ill
Oh but she was glad it wasnt Mo worked in the casino and her in the restaurant, being alone through the night. If she was she wouldnt cope; she wouldnt. The whole night long. Sophie would come into bed with her. She used to in Glasgow.
Then having to visit the loo my God you would think she was a child. She would have to leave the light on. She would. It was beyond silliness. She was such a foolish foolish female, just like so so foolish, she was, truly. Men didnt worry about such things. Unless if they didnt tell people. If they were scared too. If they were terrified! But Helen didnt believe it, not the ones she knew. They were strong; in their own ways they were, including Mo who seemed the weakest, but he wasnt, only for fighting, and she wasnt talking about fighting.