Why did they say these things? Oh but it was all the time, the same with Mo’s uncle dying of cancer. People blame the wrong things. It happened to her dealing cards, if they kept getting bust or if she kept getting blackjack, so the bank kept winning, so it was like her fault. It wasnt her fault. They blamed her for bad cards. Total stupidity. And it wasnt her money, did they think it was her winning for goodness sake it was not her winning, it was the bank, and it was not her fault if they lost. Punters lost their wages so blame the dealer. All the time they did it, as if she was responsible for how the cards fell. What did they think, that she had stacked the deck? How could she do that? They saw the cards under their very nose, that was how they were shuffled, they just came out and it happened, and they cut the deck themself, it was them done it, so why blame her? What about fate, do they never think of fate? Or luck? Why not luck? People were lucky. Some were and some werent. That was life.
A slice of toast. She needed something.
Once Sophie had gone to school she would fall into bed, just fall in. Everything. It was everything. You got tired of it all. She had been about to say ‘death’. Even death, being tired of death. Why was she thinking about death? It wasnt morbid, she wasnt morbid, not generally, although her thoughts, her imagination.
Her thoughts were the darkest, often they were, they could be. Not herself, if it was the smear, she always went and always would, and ordinary cancer, people dont pass it on to one another, not like a contagion, cancer is not a contagion, and people survive. Mo’s uncle hadnt smoked one cigarette in his whole life. He was a religious man and a non-drinker too. Why did the medical people say that? Because it was lung cancer. Mo’s family were angry and no wonder. Didnt they read the medical records? His uncle was a sportsman my God didnt they know he was a sportsman? They dont even read his files! Mo could hardly get the words out when he was telling her. Then too his family, his mum and dad up visiting most every day of the week and what a strain it put on them.
But at least they had had time together as a family. Not like when the person is just struck down. That is the horror. People have no time. Helen’s father was dead before he hit the pavement. So said the doctors. He was walking along the road and collapsed, and was dead. Children in the street witnessed it happen. So horrible. Those children looking at him and he was dead, they saw him falling down, it was a dead body, they saw a dead body falling and it was her father, my God, nobody knowing, not getting the chance to see him and wish him cheerio. It sounded stupid; foolish and just crass. But that was it, to say cheerio or bid farewell, how do you say it? goodbye, if your father is dying and you know he is and he does too, farewell or cheerio Dad or what, what happens? just holding his hand. Helen would have held his hand, pressed his hand and just
so he would know she was there, just being there for him. That was his life! That is the parent’s family, father or mother, it isnt just mothers. Dad had been so important for her. He had a right, he had a right, only to have the contact and know this at the end of his days, it isnt too much to ask, not to die like he did in the middle of the horrible street it was just so so unfair, for people believing in God, it was just silly and not only silly but not at all justice, who could ever believe in justice, poor Dad, he deserved something better than that. If there was no justice then there wasnt any so what was there?
He died the year before Sophie was born. Imagine how unfair, so so unfair. Dad would have loved a granddaughter. But it wasnt to be. Things dont work out. You plan things to happen and they dont. Whose fault is it? it is nobody’s, whether God or whoever, life is life, if it is fate. Helen didnt believe in fate, not too much, and not too much about God either. Mo could do what he wanted but not for Helen and not for Sophie, it was not their culture; he didnt speak about it to her and she didnt want him to. Really, she didnt. He went to Mosque a lot, and that was him and it was fine, the pillars of faith.
It was all too big anyway. Sometimes Helen felt that, and she was nothing, she knew she was nothing. Except she wanted nothing, so that was something. She wasnt asking for stuff and wanting things all the time like fame and fortune it was just stupidity. If she had no right to have something she didnt want it. She didnt want anything like that and didnt care. She wanted her family, that was all.
Mo laughed at her. But it wasnt her fault. She was different to what he knew but what did that mean? He thought it was Scottishness but it wasnt Scottishness, it was nothing to do with Scottishness. What was Scottishness? She didnt know what it was and it didnt matter because it wasnt her.
Anyway, she wondered about him. There were things he didnt tell her. That was men. The man who talked, but not about everything. They had had very different life experiences. Even just male and female was different, never mind families. People fight to live. Some do and some dont. Mo’s people did but what about hers? Would they fight? Did they?
Sad thoughts, sadness about the thoughts; the thoughts were not sad in themselves, the sadness was from thinking about them, their lives, their lives were just poor, poor lives, the casino too and the people she saw and encountered day in day out, night after night after night, frittering and superficial and some horrible, just horrible, horrible people and all their horrible attitudes, going out into the night, avoiding the shadows, the back alleys and side streets, they didnt want to know about them.
Brian was skinny. He was a skinny malinky; awkward and just lanky. He was lanky. She was not being disloyal saying that if it was the truth, and it was the truth.
There were questions you couldnt ask people.
She was peering down at the photographs on the floor. Families were ghosts coming back to haunt you. It was symbolic to see faces and bodies staring back up, but symbolic of what? They werent really staring. People in photographs dont stare. If it was a symbol for her what did it ‘represent’? if symbols ‘represent’ something, what? Dad just looked silly in the one she was seeing, caught in a pose with the New Zealand cousins and bending in a funny way. Bats and balls, they had been playing a silly game. There was another of Mum and Dad standing someplace on a pier. It was quite old. Mum was smiling to the camera. She had a nice smile but you hardly ever saw it.
Mum had survived without Dad. Helen knew she would. It was not being unkind saying this about her. Life shouldnt stop because one person dies. Mum had friends and she got out and about and why shouldnt she? There was nothing disloyal in that. It was nice seeing Mum smile. Who had taken the photograph? Brian? She would have smiled for Brian. Not for Helen. Frowns and sad faces. Oh well, mothers and daughters, what could you do about it? nothing. Poor Brian. Poor everybody! Did you have to feel sorry for everybody? Yes! Helen especially! Imagine it had been a full cup of tea she knocked over! On top of the photographs, and soaked them. Dad would turn in his grave. A full cup of tea on top of the family photographs, imagine that, all ruined, that was them like forever, forever and ever.
It would have been too because she didnt have them on hard drive. She should have. Only she hadnt got round to it, but she would, and would be silly not to. She did value them. They only fell out her lap, she hadnt knocked them over, not like intentionally. It was an accident and accidents do happen. It isnt our fault for everything.