Buddha Da (17 page)

Ah didnae really want him back. It was as if the sky had turned a different colour. Lucky ah was sittin doon or ah’d have had tae sit doon. There was hardly anybody in the café at that time, just a coupla auld wifies havin a cuppa tea and some teenagers cairryin on, two lassies and two laddies. If you’d took away the sports claes and gied them some new romantic gear it could’ve been me and Jimmy and Paul and that girl he used tae go oot wi – Shelley – near twenty year ago. We used tae come in here, sit for hours over a coffee, then go round the back lane when it got dark enough tae dae some winchin wioot bein spotted. Young. Daft.

Too young. Ma mammy had been right. Ah was only two
year aulder than Anne Marie when ah started gaun oot wi Jimmy. If anybody started tryin tae go serious wi Anne Marie at that age ah’d kill them. How can you know what you want when you’re fourteen? Or twenty even.

Or thirty-three for that matter. How did ah know this wasnae just a phase? Ah’d been wi Jimmy that long – how could ah be sure that ah didnae want him back? Ah felt terrible even thinkin it, couldnae imagine ever sayin it. Efter all he was Anne Marie’s daddy – if he wanted tae come back ah’d have tae let him for her sake – but in ma hert ah knew ah was enjoyin bein on ma ain. As long as ah could tell everybody that he left me, went aff wi the lamas, wanted tae find hissel and explore a new religion and all that, ah could just sit back and no face the fact that ah was quite happy wioot him. Except for wan thing of course. And even if he came back, that might never happen.

Ah bought a tub of ice cream and walked slowly back hame, takin ma time, hopin Jimmy wouldnae be in the hoose when ah got there. Couldnae be bothered wi him the night. The hoose seemed bigger when he wasnae there. All the wee things that used tae get on ma nerves when he was here – it was strange, but they annoyed me ten times worse noo we werenae thegether. You’d think it’d be easier tae put up wi them but it’s no. When he washes the dishes he never empties the basin efter him, just leaves it there, wi the dirty scum of washin-up liquid clingin tae the ootside rim of it. Ah hate havin tae look at it when ah come intae the kitchen, specially when it’s got cauld. And then when you tip it oot you find auld bits a food stuck round the plughole, bits a pasta swollen up and scraps of vegetables. It’s disgustin. How he can he no just empty the basin and gie a wipe round the sink? When ah dae the washin up the basin’s always on its
side and the cloth is over it so it can dry oot, no floatin in a mess of cauld water and grease that’d turn yer stomach.

But ah’ve never said anythin aboot it. Ah’ve just always put up wi it cos it’s Jimmy and he’s always done it and ah loved him and always assumed that there was some things ah done that annoyed him just as much. Gie and take.

But noo. Every time ah go intae that flamin kitchen efter him ah could strangle him. Ah have tae go through intae another room sometimes or ah’d say somethin. And when he’s no around me and Anne Marie get on much better. No that we’ve ever fought or that – we havenae, we’ve always been dead lucky wi Anne Marie, you couldnae have a better daughter. But she’s always been a daddy’s girl; he’s always been mair excitin, mair of a laugh than me, borin auld mum. Ah mind when she was a baby and she just wanted me. That’s how it was up tae she was a year, year-and-a-hauf auld. Then wan day, ah can still remember it, she’d fallen and banged her heid and she started greetin and put her wee airms up tae get a cuddle and ah went tae pick her up and she said clear as day, ‘want my daddy’. Wouldnae let me comfort her. Ah felt as if somethin died inside me. Left him tae pick her up and had tae go through intae another room, sat for ages and couldnae come oot. Couldnae even greet though ah wanted tae. Ah’ve never felt the same since. It’s no that ah love her any less – cannae imagine lovin anybody mair than her – she’s that close tae me, close tae baith of us wi bein the only wan, but ah felt as if something had been taken away fae me. Ah wanted ma baby back. And it wouldnae have been so bad if ah’d had another baby, then it would of seemed natural for Anne Marie tae move mair tae her daddy. Ah never said it but though we’d decided tae wait for a few year efter Anne Marie, save up a bit afore we’d
try for another wan, ah wanted tae get pregnant right away – it was Jimmy kept sayin it was too soon and we’d plenty time. And ah thought we had, but maybe if we’d tried then, maybe. Life’s full of maybes.

‘Ma granny’s just phoned.’ Anne Marie called fae the livin room as ah walked through the door. ‘You’ve tae phone her back.’

‘OK. Ah haunded her the ice cream. ‘Stick this in the freezer, will you?’

‘Can ah have some the noo?’

‘Naw, wait tae efter yer dinner.’

Ah don’t know if she got her dinner that night. The night ma mammy died.

Ah really wasnae expectin it. There’d been a wee niggle at the back of ma mind that she wasnae right, wasnae hersel, but dyin … that was never on the cards. Ah think if ah’d dared tae put intae words what ah was most feart of, it’d probably be that she’d cancer or something. Sometimes in the middle of the night ah imagined her lyin in hospital, gettin sicker and the doctors tellin us they couldnae dae anythin. But at least that way you’ve time tae get used tae it. No this.

When ah phoned there was nae reply and ah’d started tae panic, tellt Anne Marie ah was gaun roond again.

‘Whit’s wrang, Mammy?’

‘Don’t know, hen, but she’s no answerin the phone. She’s probably just in the toilet, but ah’d better just get round there and check she’s OK.’

‘Ah’ll come round wi you.’

‘No, hen, it’s OK. You get the tea started. Ah’ll be back
in an hour. Just make some pasta and leave me some tae heat up. Is yer daddy comin round the night?’

‘No the night. Ah said ah’d go round there the morra.’

‘OK. Ah’ll no be lang.’ 

She looked as if she’d fallen asleep on the couch. Ah knew though. She’d never of stayed so sound when she heard me comin in. Mammy’s always been a light sleeper, wakes up the slightest noise. Ah stood in the doorway, no knowin whit tae dae. In the movies folk always touch the body or take a pulse, then they scream or faint. Ah just stood there. Ah knew ah should call the doctor or the priest, but ah just stood there in front of her as if ah was waitin tae see if she’d say somethin, tell me whit tae dae, like she always did. Ah sat doon beside her, just lookin. Her stillness. An hour ago, less than an hour ago, she’d been tellin me tae make it up wi Jimmy, and noo. It was ma fault. It was that fight wi me that made her take the heart attack or whatever it was that killed her. And the last words ah said tae ma mammy. What were they? ‘Its no gonnae be me’, words said in anger, slammin the door behind me.

‘Mammy, ah’m sorry. Mammy, can you hear me. Ah didnae mean it.’

And she sat there. And ah wanted tae greet but the tears wouldnae come.

Ah went intae the hall. She still keeps the phone there even though Jimmy put a new socket in the livin room for her so she’d be warmer. Said she’d spend too much time on it if it was in beside her. Then ah realised ah didnae know who tae phone first. Ah suppose ah should call of called her doctor first but ah wanted somebody else there so ah phoned Tricia. She was a nurse, she’d know whit tae dae.

She came round right away, arrived even afore the doctor.

‘Liz, are you all right? This is a terrible shock.’

‘Ah cannae believe it. Ah knew she wasnae right but ah never thought …’

‘Have you phoned the doctor?’

‘She’s on her way round. And the priest.’

‘What aboot Anne Marie?’

‘Ah don’t want tae tell her on the phone. She’s in the hoose hersel.’

‘Where’s Jimmy?’

‘Ah don’t know where he is the night. Ah want tae tell her masel.’

‘Ah’ll go and make a cuppa tea. OK?’

‘Thanks Tricia.’

The doctor was the young wumman in the practice. Mammy’d really took tae her. It’s funny, she used tae always go tae auld Doctor McKillop, who’s aboot ninety-three and gies ye Sudofed tablets whether you’ve a broken leg or a broken hert. Ah thought she’d never change. But she seen this young doctor a year ago when she was first no well and she always makes her appointments wi her noo. Thinks she’s brilliant. Thought.

‘Fay Harrison,’ she said, shakin ma haund. No even Doctor.

‘Ah’m Mrs O’Sullivan’s daughter.’

‘I’m very sorry. This must be a terrible shock for you.’

Ah didnae want tae see the doctor daein whatever she was gonnae dae tae ma mammy, whatever she had tae dae tae check she was dead. ‘D’you want a cuppa tea, Doctor?’

‘Thank you. Milk, no sugar.’

‘D’you know whit it was, Doctor, what caused …?’

‘Most likely a heart attack. Your mother had been unwell for some time and we never got to the bottom of what was causing her symptoms, but whatever it was, it was unlikely to have killed her in this way, so suddenly. When did you last see her … I mean before this?’

‘An hour ago, Doctor. Ah was here efter work and ah’d just got hame when she phoned and …’ Ah could feel the tears startin noo.

‘I’m so sorry.’ She put her haund on ma airm.

‘But it’s no just that, Doctor, it’s … when ah was leavin ah said … could it have been a shock that caused the heart attack?’

‘Something you said to her?’

Ah nodded. She put her hand on ma airm.

‘Please don’t upset yourself. This happens all the time with relatives. They think it’s their fault. Nothing you did or said could have caused her heart attack, if that’s what it is. It could probably have happened any time at all.’

‘Thanks, Doctor.’

‘I’m sorry about this, but I’m afraid we’ll need to do a post-mortem.’

‘But you said it was a heart attack.’

‘That’s almost certainly the case. But she’d never shown any signs of heart trouble before so … I’m afraid it’s a legal requirement before the death certificate can be issued.’

‘Oh.’

‘Please don’t get upset about it. It’ll only delay the arrangements for a day or so. Give you time to get used to what’s happened.’

Tricia was hoverin in the doorway, haudin a tray. Ma mammy’s flowery mugs. Bone china, each wi a different spring flower on it: crocus, daffodil, snowdrop. There was
a hyacinth too that made up the set, the wan she’d always used hersel. 

The next couple of days went by in a blur. Ah spent hauf of it on the phone, tellin folk, makin arrangements, and the other hauf in the kitchen, makin tea and sandwiches.

‘There must of been mair cups a tea drunk in this hoose this past two days than the whole of last year.’

Anne Marie was pourin oot another two cups for neighbours that had dropped by wi mass cards. Tricia was cuttin slices a fruit loaf and spreadin butter on them. She was showin noo; ah could see the bump quite clearly under the baggy tee shirt.

‘Here, hen,’ She put the slices on a plate and added them tae the tray. Anne Marie took them through intae the livin room.

‘She’s a great help, that one.’ Tricia unwrapped another fruit loaf and crumpled up the wrapper. ‘Seems tae have taken it really well. Her and her granny were very close.’

‘Ah’m just worried it’s gonnae hit her later.’

‘Aye, it’s easy tae keep gaun at this time. There’s that much tae dae.’

‘And that many folk around.’

‘The hoose has never been empty since they brought her back.’ 

They’d brung her back tae the hoose on the Sunday. Her dyin on the Friday seemed tae haud everythin up a bit wi the hospital and the undertakers and that. The funeral wasnae gonnae be tae the Wednesday.

If it hadnae been for Tricia and Anne Marie ah don’t know how ah’d of got everythin done. Ah thought Paul would deal
wi the arrangements, him bein the eldest and a man, but he just went tae pieces. Ah’ve never seen him like this. Ah called him on his mobile just efter the doctor went away, didnae want tae phone his hoose cos ah know whit Angie’s like – she can start a drama oot of lossin a perra gloves – and anyway ah wanted tae tell him masel. When he arrived just at the same time as the priest, his face looked grey. Paul’s only four year aulder than me and he’s always been a smart-lookin guy but he sat there on the settee slumped like an auld man. When the priest was givin her the last rites he hardly opened his mooth tae mumble the prayers. Ah tried tae tell him how it happened, what the doctor had said but he just sat there, sayin ‘ma mammy’s gone’ over and over again. He looked as if he was gonnae greet.

Eventually Tricia said, ‘Paul, there’s nothin we can dae here the now. You should go hame and tell Angie. D’you want me tae come wi you? Ah could help put the weans tae bed.’

‘Aye, Angie’ll be in a state.’

Tricia grabbed ma airm and pulled me intae the hall. ‘Ah’m sorry, Liz, ah’d of come hame wi you but ah’m worried aboot him drivin hame hissel in this state.’

‘It’s OK. Ah’d rather tell Anne Marie masel.’

‘Ah know.’ She looked through intae the room where Paul was sittin, his heid in his haunds. ‘And Angie’s no a lot of use at the best of times; she’ll be in a state right enough. She’s aye in a state. God knows whit he sees in her.’

‘Ah didnae think it’d hit him this hard though – look at him.’

‘It’s the shock, takes folk different ways. Look, ah’ll phone you later. If you want me to come round …’

‘Ah’ll be fine the night, Trish. Thanks. Ah’ll phone you in the mornin.’

‘OK.’

When ah got hame the first thing ah seen was the clock sittin on the mantelpiece. Eight-thirty. That was all. Felt like a lifetime since ah’d went oot the hoose. Anne Marie poked her heid round the kitchen door. She’d been washin her hair and it was wrapped in a green towel.

‘How is she?’

‘Anne Marie, come here, hen.’

Ah held oot ma airms and she came intae them. ‘Ah’m sorry hen, your granny’s passed on.’

‘Whit happened?’

‘Her hert. It was sudden, she never suffered, the doctor said.’

‘Oh, Mammy.’

And we stood there, airms round each other. 

Jimmy came round the next mornin. Anne Marie and me had been that quiet, tiptoein round the place as if Mammy was actually in the hoose, and when he came in it was as if some big daft dug had rushed in.