Buddha Da (21 page)

Ah stood at the door of the livin room and looked round. Ah couldnae dae anythin aboot the furniture the noo. Ah didnae want any of it masel but ah’d need tae see if Paul did. Couldnae see Angie lettin any of it in the hoose though. What was left could go tae the St Vincent de Paul. They were good, they were comin on Thursday tae pick it up and gie it tae somebody that needed it, and they’d take dishes and kitchen stuff too. But ah’d need tae go through everythin else.

Ah lifted the ornaments on her mantelpiece, wrapped each wan in newspaper and put them in a cardboard box. China birds all different kinds, different colours, sittin on bits a logs or poppin their heids oot of wee hooses. When ah was wee she’d just had the wan, sittin on the right side ae the mantelpiece, a robin wi a red breast and mad stary eyes, but then ah bought her another wan for her birthday when ah was ten, saved ma pocket money for weeks, and then it started bein a kind of ritual that we’d bring her wan back fae holiday. Anne Marie always used tae get her wan when she was away on a trip fae the school.

In a stool wi a black plastic lid on it she kept cuttins oot of magazines; knittin patterns, recipes, handy hints. Ah lifted them and flung them in a bin bag. Her knittin bag wi Aran wool and the latest jumper still on its needles was sittin in a corner. Ah don’t know anybody who has time for knittin noo but mibbe some auld dear could use it so ah stuck it in the bag for the charity shop. Maisty the books went in a box for charity too. No that Mammy had many books. She was a great reader but she always went tae the library, rarely bought a book.

There wasnae much left. Mammy’d had a big clearoot afore she came here – the rooms in this wee flat were a lot smaller than in her auld hoose – and ah’d already taken all her bank books and papers round tae ma ain hoose. But ah’d need tae redd oot her claes.

Ah went intae the bedroom and that’s when it hit me. Ah’d forgotten Jimmy’d moved her bed intae the spare room so’s they could get the coffin in and it hadnae been moved back. The room was practically empty. Movin through the rest of the hoose it could of been that she was oot, on holiday
maybe, but here, in the bedroom wi nae bed, it was final. She was gone.

Ah opened the wardrobe and went tae take oot her claes, sort the wans that could be given tae the charity shop and the wans tae be thrown oot, but ah was caught by the smell again, a musty smell, an auld lady smell. Ah’d never realised ma mammy was gettin that smell, never smelled it aff her. She was always dead clean and wore perfume – Rive Gauche she liked – but here in the wardrobe, among the claes, there it was; the smell of auld age. No the smell of a nursin hame or a geriatric ward; ah’d had tae visit ma granny often enough and that was different, that was the smell of urine and unwashed skin. Naw, this was somethin you couldnae put a word tae. Why would somebody smell different because they were auld? If they werenae neglected and could look efter theirsels why would they smell different fae somebody young? Ah imagined the dry skin flakin aff ma mammy, powderin and workin itsel intae the folds of the claes. These claes hangin up here infused wi the skin of ma mammy, moulderin away inside this wardrobe. Ah buried ma face in the claes, feelin the nylon, polyester, unnatual fabrics that washed easy and hardly needed ironin, and ah smelled the scent of auld, auld skin. Ah wanted tae greet, tae get right intae that wardrobe, hide masel inside it and howl ma heid aff, but ah couldnae. The tears were stuck somewhere between ma chest and ma throat.

Ah felt angry and ah didnae know how. Why was ah angry? It wasnae her fault she’d died. It wasnae anybody’s. People died, and as lives go, her life had been a good wan; she’d been happy, loved her grandweans. And her children. At least ah supposed she’d loved us for it wasnae her way tae say it. Her and all her generation. They werenae brung
up tae say they loved you. Ah wasnae brung up tae say it either.

What difference would it have made if ah could of said the words?
Mammy, ah love you
. If ah could of said it every day when ah was leavin.
Mammy, ah love you
. And for her tae say it back.
Ah love you
. Ah used tae say it tae Anne Marie. Ah used tae say it every day when she was wee.
You know
ah love you, you know yer mammy loves you
. Always, then noo she’s a teenager and when ah turn up at the school gate it’s
you should of phoned me
.

It’s no that simple either. How come if ah loved ma mammy that much ah resented her too? How come ah didnae really want tae spend that much time wi her? Everybody said ah was a good daughter cos ah came round and tidied up for her every night, but ah was in and oot of here as quick as ah could, barely an hour ah spent, never sat doon and talked tae her. What was there tae talk aboot? What was there tae say? We never even done anythin thegether the last few year, never even went shoppin thegether hardly, ah used tae get so fed up wi her she was that slow, ah never had the time. What if Anne Marie feels like that aboot me when ah’m auld?

Ah lifted ma mammy’s claes oot the wardrobe, hangers and all, and put them intae a bin bag. Then ah locked the hoose and walked oot, doon the road, no knowin where ah was gaun.

It was dead trendy, the hairdressers; painted cream and black, mirrors in beaten metal and a big vase of lilies at the reception desk. Ah’d walked by it often enough but never been in. Never thought there was any chance of an appointment on a Saturday efternoon but when ah spoke tae the lassie at the desk she said there was a
cancellation wi somebody called Cheryl and could she take ma jaicket.

A young guy showed me tae a chair.

‘Cheryl will be with you in a minute. She’s just finishing off with another client. Can ah get you a coffee?’

‘Aye, thanks.’

Cheryl was a round-faced lassie wearin a short skirt and big clumpy boots. Her hair was jet black wi a red streak at the front. She shook ma haund.

‘Ah’m Cheryl, nice tae meet you. What are you having done this afternoon?’

‘Ah don’t know really. Ah’m a bit fed up and want ah change.’

‘Brilliant,’ she said, runnin her haunds through ma hair as if she was weighing it. ‘D’you want tae go shorter?’

‘Ah think so.’

Ma hair’s been cut in a bob for years; it’s quite straight and shiny and a kind of medium brown. She started liftin it up, pullin it away fae ma face.

‘You’ve a good bone structure, you’d really suit it a bit spiky, a bit mair movement through it, some layers.’

She was lookin at ma hair intently as if she was a scientist on the verge of a new discovery. Then she said, ‘How about the colour?’

‘Ah usually put a rinse in it masel, brighten it up a bit. Gie it a reddish tone.’

‘Permanent?’

‘Semi.’

‘When did you last dae it?’

‘Maybe six weeks ago.’

‘Perfect. How d’you fancy something a bit mair adventurous?’

‘How d’you mean?’

‘Well, a lot of folk are going for brighter shades. Ah could dae a nice base shade, a bit brighter than your natural colour and put a few highlights in – a hot pink would be just you.’

Ah looked in the mirror. Ah’d no slept properly since ma mammy passed on and ma face looked grey and tired. Ah was dressed in an auld top and denims for clearin the hoose. Ah looked at Cheryl wi her trendy claes and spiky hair. She was probably only five or six year younger than me.

She smiled. ‘Go for it?’

‘Aye. Go for it.’

Three hours later ah walked oot the hairdressers feelin like a supermodel. Ah walked alang Great Western Road lookin in shop mirrors. Ma hair was all spiked up at the tap, and it looked as if somebody’d painted pink streaks through it. Ma neck felt cauld though; it was much shorter than usual.

Ah went for a coffee and sat, flickin through the paper, feelin as if everybody was watchin me even though ah knew it was daft – they didnae know ah looked any different fae usual. It was funny though, ah felt like a different person, sat up straighter than usual in ma seat.

Ah looked at ma watch. Hauf-two. Ah’d no had lunch yet; ah’d need tae get hame, see what Anne Marie was up tae. But ah couldnae bear the thought of just sittin in the hoose the night, all dolled up and naewhere tae go. Ah took oot ma phone and dialled Nikki’s number.

Anne Marie came oot her room when she heard the door.

‘Mammy, ah …’ she stopped.

‘It’s OK, say it,’ ah said. ‘Ah know it wis a mad thing tae dae.’

‘It’s … nice … suits you.’

‘D’you think so?’ Ah looked at masel in the mirror, pullin at the strands. ‘Ah liked it when ah seen it at the hairdressers but noo ah’m hame ah don’t know. Ah mean what am ah supposed tae wear wi sumpn like this? And what is Mr Anderson gonnae say when ah turn up on Monday mornin?’

‘Ah don’t think he’ll even notice, Mammy. When ah go up tae get you fae work he looks at me and says, “And what is your name?” and he’s seen me loads a times.’

‘Aye but it’s a bit different no rememberin folk’s names and your secretary lookin like a punk.’

‘Loads a folk have their hair dyed noo, Mammy. Anyway, he cannae say anythin aboot it. You’ve got rights. We were learnin aboot it in Modern Studies.’

‘We’ll see. Anyway it’ll grow oot. Ah can always go back and get them tae tone it doon.’

‘Naw, ah think you should keep it like that. It really suits you.’

‘Thanks. Listen, Anne Marie, ah’m gaun oot the night.’

‘Well, you’ll need tae show aff yer new hairstyle, won’t you?’

‘Nikki’s gaun oot for a drink wi some pals and ah said ah’d go alang too. Yer daddy’s comin round. Is that OK?’

‘Cool. Ah’ll go round tae the shop and get a video.’

‘OK. Don’t be long, ah’ll get the tea on.’

All the time we were daein it ah felt as if ah was split in two, as if part of me was inside ma body, feelin, and another part of me was somewhere up on the ceilin, watchin. And a good view ah had of the two of us, me kneelin on Nikki’s kitchen flair, skirt up round ma waist, knickers round wan leg, arse
bare tae the world, and him fuckin me, balls bouncin against me, his haunds cuppin round ma breists, his face buried in ma neck. And somebody else was was sayin the words that were comin oot ma mouth, ride ride ride, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. No too loud in case they heard next door. And it was like ridin; the rhythm was perfect, like these guys that ride waves on surfboards, hittin just the right spot. Nothin could put us aff, no even when the kitchen door creaked open and a shaft of light hit us fae the hall. A figure stood there – ah think it might of been Alan, heard his sharp intake of breath, then he shut the door quick and went back tae the livin room where the rest of them were.

And we just kept on, goin for it, till we collapsed on the flair thegether, laughin.

‘This flair’s manky … Nikki’s needin tae get a scrubbin brush oot.’

‘Ah cannae believe you said that … ah must be lossin ma touch.’

‘If that’s you lost yer touch ah’m glad ah didnae get aff wi you when you were on form – ah might of dropped deid.’

He smiled. ‘You’re no bad yersel.’

‘Takes two.’ Ah started tae put on ma knickers and pull ma skirt doon. ‘Ah better go tae the bathroom and get cleaned up.’

‘D’you want me tae wait for you here or should ah go intae the livin room?’

‘Don’t think it matters. They’re no gonnae believe we were makin toast – Alan must of seen us.’

‘Ah know. D’you want tae leave?’

‘Naw, ah’d never be able tae face them again. Gie’s a minute – wait here then we’ll go in thegether. OK?’

* * *

It was wanny they things you think efterwards must of been meant tae happen, yet it was pure coincidence that David had been part of the crowd, oot for a drink that Saturday night. Later he said that he never seen Derek that often, just happened tae bump intae him that efternoon and was at a loose end. And ah’d just wanted a night oot, a good laugh, chance tae show aff ma new hairstyle and forget aboot things. But when he came intae the pub he made a point of sittin beside me and though we never really had much chance tae talk on wer ain, ah just knew. He was lookin at me, really lookin at me, and ah felt ma face flush.

He bent closer. ‘Love the hair.’

‘Thanks. Just went mad. Let the hairdresser dae what she wanted.’

‘It really suits you. You look fantastic.’

And it was as if, that night, even though we hardly said a word tae each other on wer ain, somehow we were thegether. Ah could feel his leg, warm against mines and smell his aftershave. Efter the pub we’d all went back tae Nikki’s and while she was gettin drinks for everybody in the livin room, he took ma haund and led me intae the kitchen, shut the door and the next minute ah was pushed up against it and the two of us were kissin till we couldnae breathe, and ah still don’t know how we ended up on the flair or how we seemed tae fit thegether as if we were two haufs of somethin that had been broken apart and had come back thegether again.

‘That’s me hame.’

Ah stuck ma heid round the livin-room door. Anne Marie and Jimmy were sittin on the settee, glued tae the TV, faces sickly-lookin in the hauf light.

‘Aye, right.’ Anne Marie glanced round.

Jimmy never looked fae the screen.

‘Want a cup of tea?’

‘Aye, please.’

Ah put the kettle on then went intae the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Ah couldnae unnerstaund how they never noticed anythin different aboot me; ah looked completely different, and no because of the hair. Ma eyes were soft and shiny, and ma skin was glowin. Ah must smell different too. Ah got washed staundin at the sink, washin all the stickiness away, dryin masel wi a soft towel. Then went intae the bedroom, put on clean knickers and pulled on a pair of jeans afore ah went tae finish makin the tea.

Ah was gonnae say ah’d spilled sumpn on ma skirt and that’s how ah’d got changed but Anne Marie and Jimmy never asked me, never noticed anythin. We just sat there, havin a cuppa tea, watchin the end of the film, then Jimmy left and Anne Marie went tae bed. And ah stayed in the livin room, lookin at the fire.

Ah couldnae get ma heid round it. Ah’d done sumpn ah’d never imagined in a million year, got aff wi somebody ah hardly knew, had it aff on a kitchen flair, then when ah came hame, the two folk that were supposed tae know me better than anybody else never even noticed, just sat there, watchin the TV. That was another thing, how come me and Jimmy could behave as though nothin had happened? We sit watchin TV wi Anne Marie, just like we had for years, and then at the end of the night he just gets up and goes away. As if it’s normal. Then the image of David and me filled ma mind. Ah could see us on that flair thegether, feel him, smell him. It wasnae the same, no now.