Buddha Da (27 page)

IT WAS QUIET
when ah got back tae the Centre. Nae lights on except the wan in the hall, just enough light tae stop you fallin over. Ah shut the door, quietly. Beginnin tae be habit, this, bein quiet. Used tae bang doors behind me, dump ma stuff in the hall, shout ‘that’s me hame.’ Hame. A mattress on the flair in a corner of the prayer room. The prayer room. Ma mural. Ma project. Ma process. The mindfulness of. Breathin. Comin harder and faster noo. Hurtin ma chest. The room dark, shafts a light dart in fae the street, lightin up the shape of the Buddha on the wall opposite. Every night, lyin in ma bed, watchin the Buddha on the wall, watchin him take shape, bit by bit, every night a wee bit mair. The detail: his eyes, closed in meditation, his haunds – ah was that proud of his haunds, thought ah’d really managed tae get them right.
And every day the Rinpoche comin in and lookin, noticin the new wee bits, smilin, pattin me on the shoulder. It had been enough praise just for him tae smile at me wi that smile. Every day, thinkin ah was gettin clearer and clearer, ah knew whit ah was supposed tae be daein. Given up unnerstaundin whit was supposed tae happen, whit it was all aboot, trustin that if ah kept daein ma wee bit, daein ma stuff, then it would all work oot for the best. For us aw.

A wean. No ma wean. Inside her.

A life.

Ah used tae have a life. Never thought aboot it tae ah met the Rinpoche. Just got up in the mornin and got on wi it. Work. Hame. Anne Marie. Liz. The stuff. Then when ah got deeper intae the meditatin and searchin and aw that, ah thought ah was gettin clear, unnerstaundin it mair, but at the bottom somewhere ah suppose ah always thought that wanst ah’d found whitever it was ah was lookin fur, well, ah’d just go back tae ma life, except it would be better cos ah’d be clear aboot it, unnerstaund. Aboot ma life. Aboot life.

But noo there’s a new life. Growin inside Liz. And it’s got nothin tae dae wi me.

And ah’m sittin on ma erse on a mattress, watchin the Buddha, tryin tae make sense of this wan. The colours changin in the flickerin light, red turnt tae purple, eyes yella, the smile on his face a smirk. Fuck you, Jimmy. Thought you were so fuckin smart, didn’t you? Unlockin the secret of the universe. Then ah feel the energy risin up
– the chakras openin, it says in the books – fae ma balls, fae ma erse, heat risin through the centre of ma body. Heat, ma face flushin and ma haunds movin and ah don’t think, ah just feel the heat crashin round ma brain, the colours flashin inside ma heid like a lightnin storm. And ah’m in the corner of the room, prizin open the tins a paint and ah lift the first wan up and ah chuck it, watch the red hit the wall and run down in slow motion, big dauds splatterin the Buddha, coverin his face and part of his robes. Then the yella efter it, mixin wi the red, makin orange streaks, runnin doon intae puddles on the flair under it. And ah cannae move fast enough noo, liftin tin efter tin; blue, purple, green, each wan coverin mair and mair of the wall, the colour muddier and messier and filthier tae there’s only a wee tin of gold left – just a wee tin for daein the detail at the end, and when ah lift it the hale tin flees oot ma haund, thumps agin the wall, crashin intae the plaster above the Buddha’s eye, reboundin across the room tae the opposite corner, where it rolls on its side, forward and back, forward and back, tae it stops, restin in a groove in the floorboards.

ABOOT NINE O’CLOCK
the phone rang.

‘Liz?’

‘David.’

‘How are you?’

‘OK. Tired.’

‘Liz, ah really think we should talk again.’

Ah was sick of talkin. What was there tae say?

‘You there? Liz, are you on holiday the morra?’

‘Aye, Queen’s birthday, God bless her.’

‘D’you want tae go somewhere, get oot the city?’

‘Suppose so. Where?’

‘Don’t know. If you don’t feel like drivin we could go on the train. Go tae Largs or Helensburgh or somewhere.’

‘It’d be good tae get some air.’

‘Ah’ll meet you in Central Station at twelve … under the clock.’

Anne Marie stuck her heid round the door and pulled the earphones away fae her heid. ‘Is that Nisha?’

‘Naw. You seein her the morra?’

‘Aye, ah’m gaun round for her in the efternoon. We’re nearly finished this demo … just have tae put the finishin touches on it.’

She disappeared back intae her bedroom. When all this was sorted, when ah knew what ah was daein, ah’d need tae spend mair time wi Anne Marie, payin attention tae her interests.

But how the hell was ah gonnae dae that? Ah’d need tae tell her aboot the baby soon, whatever happened between me and David, and God knows how she’d react tae that.

It was roastin, but there was a wee breeze fae the sea, fresh and cool round your face. We walked alang the front and he took ma haund. Ah’d never walked doon the street haund in haund wi him afore; at hame ah was always too worried in case somebody seen us.

At first we never spoke, just walked, slowly, watchin the clouds flee across the sky and the weans playin on the beach.

‘We used tae come here when ah was wee,’ he said. ‘Did you?’

‘A couple of times. Maistly Saltcoats though. When ma daddy was workin we’d have a holiday every summer. Then he got sick and the holidays stopped.’

‘When was that?’

‘When ah was aboot ten … he died when ah was fifteen.’

‘You never really talk aboot him.’

‘Ah know. Suppose it’s because of ma mammy. She never really talked aboot him. It’s only the last few month afore she died, when she was no well hersel, that she even mentioned him.’

‘That was the way then.’

‘Ah think it was the only way she could cope. It was hard for her – when he got ill and wasnae workin she had tae get wee cleanin jobs – there was nae money. Of course we didnae unnerstaund.’

‘Too young.’

‘It was the free meals ah hated – felt that humiliated when the teacher gied they tickets oot on a Monday mornin. Ah tellt Mammy ah didnae want tae take them but she said ah had tae. Ah was that mad at her – couldnae unnerstaund how hard it was for her, tryin tae make ends meet.’

We’d walked quite far alang the front, where it was quieter, and we sat doon on a bench. The beach was a bit stonier here and there were less weans.

‘Liz, there’s somethin ah want tae talk tae you aboot.’ He was lookin doon at ma haund again, tracin wee circles on ma palm wi his finger. ‘Ah’ve been offered a place on an exchange programme tae the States tae dae ma research there.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Ah’d be away for a year – at least. And if they like me and there’s fundin, maybe longer. Ah havenae said yes … ah’ve tae let them know by Friday.’

‘When did this happen?’

‘Ah just got the letter on Thursday. Ah applied six month ago but ma supervisor tellt me the chances of bein picked was remote so ah’d never really thought aboot it. Ah’d meant tae
tell you on Friday night, then … this happened. Ah didnae know whit tae say.’

‘Are you gaun?’

‘That depends on us.’

‘It’s your decision. D’you want tae go?’

‘Of course ah dae. It’s a big opportunity. But ah don’t want tae let you doon.’

Ah took hold of his haund.

‘Ah’ve got somethin tae tell you too. Ah had some bleedin yesterday.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Ah went tae the hospital and they checked me oot. It’s OK.’

‘Ah thought for a minute that …’

‘Ah’d lost it. That would’ve been convenient, wouldn’t it?’

‘Liz, ah didnae mean that.’

‘It’s the ideal solution, isn’t it?’

‘Suppose so.’

He put his haund on ma airm. ‘Ah’m sorry, ah didnae mean that. You OK?’

‘Aye.’

‘So what caused the bleedin?’

‘They don’t know. It happens sometimes – ah had some bleedin at this stage when ah was expectin Anne Marie. They just said tae take it easy over the next few weeks. Efter aboot thirteen weeks you’re safe.’

‘So it could still happen?’

‘Aye.’

A seagull wheeled overheid, scraikin, and ah watched it drap doon low, then soar and heid oot across the sea. Ah suppose up till then ah’d still clung on tae some wee shreds
of hope, that we’d make it through thegether and when the baby came it would work itsel oot. Ah’d lay in ma bed at night afore ah went tae sleep, imaginin his face when he seen the baby for the first time, fantasisin aboot us and Anne Marie all livin thegether a few year fae noo, when he’d finished his PhD and got a job, mibbe lecturin at the uni or somethin.

But ah could feel his hope hangin fae him, still hangin, the hope that over the next few weeks there was still a chance that ah’d loss the baby and he’d be free.

Ah stood up.

‘Fancy a game of puttin?’

‘Puttin?’

‘Aye, we’re at the seaside, aren’t we?’

There was naebody on the puttin green except a couple of wee boys messin aboot. David took the first shot and sent his ball aboot four feet wide of the hole. Ah stood, claspin the putter, haunds linked thegether, looked at the hole, swung the club gently and sent the ball straight and steady tae land a couple of inches away fae it.

David gied me the thumbs up. ‘Cool.’

He took his next shot, first sendin it too far across the other side, then tappin it so gently that it took him another three shots tae get it in.

Ah nudged mines intae the hole. ‘Two, five.’

‘Aw, come on, you’re no keepin scores are you? Ah’m so crap at this.’

‘No fun unless you score.’

‘Ah’ll warm up soon, you’ll see.’

But the rest of the game continued the same way, me gettin the ball in two, occasionally three, and him veerin between great long shots that sent it careerin aff
too far or wee soft skeetery wans that didnae go far enough.

It’s great when you get intae a rhythm with puttin, feel the club swing by itsel, as though you’re no really daein it, just usin yer eye tae see where it should go. We never spoke much except for David mutterin ‘Christ’ and ‘Fuck’ when he hit a particularly wild shot, and in the end ah gave up keepin score and just concentrated on whit ah was daein. Eventually, at the 14th hole ah done it – the ball travelled slowly and smoothly alang the grass and tapped intae the hole in wan.

‘Ah think ah should just gie up noo.’

‘Nae chance … you have tae finish.’

‘So ma humiliation is complete.’

Efterwards we went intae the café and sat at a table in the windae.

David looked at the menu. ‘Fancy an ice cream?’

‘Ah want wanny they big fancy wans, a knickerbocker glory or somethin.’

‘Don’t think ah could manage that. Ah’ll just have a snowball ice.’

‘You’re no eatin for two.’

The train hame was swelterin, wi that leftower heat you get at the end of a hot day, the sun mixed wi the heat fae the engine. Ma skirt was all wrinkled and there was a grass stain on the front. David put his airm round me. ‘That was a brilliant day.’

‘Aye, it was.’

‘Let’s dae it again.’

‘Ah don’t think so.’

Ah looked oot the windae. A flash of sunlight shootin
through the dark blue sea. ‘Ah don’t think there’ll be time – you’ll have a lot of packin afore you go away.’

‘Ah never said ah was definitely gaun.’

‘You’re gaun.’

‘But whit aboot the baby?’

‘Whit aboot it? You’re gaun tae America. You’ll no be here.’

‘Ah don’t want tae run oot on you.’

‘You’re no. It’s a big chance for you. There’s nothin you can dae here. You have tae go. And ah’ve got a few things tae work oot on ma ain.’

Jimmy was in the kitchen when ah got back, puttin a casserole dish in the oven.

‘Ah came round tae see you but Anne Marie said you’d gone oot. She’s away round at Nisha’s so ah thought ah’d make masel useful.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Need tae keep yer strength up.’

‘Aye.’

Ah lifted the kettle, ran the cauld tap. ‘Want a cuppa tea the noo?’

‘Aye, OK.’

We sat at the kitchen table, two identical mugs in front of us. Sippin tea, listenin tae the clock tick. Just the same as we always had been. Even though Jimmy didnae live here any mair it was just the way it had always been. But noo it couldnae stay the same, soon the bairn growin inside me would change everythin.

‘Jimmy, when are we gonnae tell Anne Marie?’

‘
Whit
are we gonnae tell Anne Marie? Ah mean, is this guy gonnae move in wi you? Are you gonnae move in wi him?’

‘Naw. We’re no. Ah seen him this efternoon. It’s over.’

His face was darker, mair lined, as if it had been carved oot of wood. ‘How is it over? He cannae dae that – you’re havin a baby.’

‘Ah know ah’m havin a baby. He hasnae run oot. It’s me – ah tellt him ah didnae want tae see him.’

‘How?’

‘Cause ah don’t. Look – ah don’t want tae talk aboot him the noo, OK? What aboot Anne Marie? Ah think we should tell her thegether.’

‘Whatever you think.’

‘Jimmy, ah know it’s gonnae be a terrible shock for her, and she’ll need us baith … ah’ve been thinkin.’

‘Whit?’

‘Well, Anne Marie and me are gaun tae the cottage as usual – it was all booked up afore Mammy passed on and … anyway, would you come wi us? Then we could tell her when we’re thegether, when she’s away fae here.’

AH HELD THE
silver circle in ma haund, fingers just touchin it at the edge, watchin it sparkle in the light fae Nisha’s lamp. It was done, finished. And it was all wer ain work.

Of course we couldnae of done it wioot Gurpreet – he done all the mixin, the computer stuff, and added in the odd wee touch, a note here and there. But really he’d put thegether what we’d decided, Nisha and me, efter all those sessions round at ma hoose. The Tibetan lamas’ deep gravelly voices risin and fallin in a singsong rhythm, then Nisha’s voice comin in on tap – ‘
salve
’ and then mines echoin – ‘
salve
’as if we were callin tae each other across wanny they Tibetan hillsides. Mair chantin then the two ‘
salves
’ repeated, then me singin ‘
Salve Regina
’ the whole way through, as pure and straight as ah could. But when ah got tae ‘
ad te clamamus
’
Nisha’s voice comin in, singin in Punjabi, swoopin higher and higher, random phrases, wi Indian drums sampled through it so it became dead clamorous and frantic, then a slow descent wi the ‘
Salve Regina
’ bit gettin louder but just repeatin and Nisha’s voice sayin, ‘Hail, holy queen, mother of mercy, hail our life, our sweetness and our hope’, then the whole thing echoin away tae just ‘
salve, salve, salve
,’ repeated.

‘It is so cool.’ Gurpreet smiled. ‘No competition.’

Ah couldnae wait tae show it tae Ma and Da, let them hear it, though on the way hame ah started tae wonder what they’d make of it. Nisha and me had been that caught up in actually daein the thing, gettin it finished, that their reaction had been the last thing on ma mind. But noo it occurred tae me that ma daddy couldnae stand sampled music so he’d probably no like it and ah wondered if mammy would think it was a bit disrespectful usin the ‘
Salve Regina
’ that way, especially since ah’d sung it at ma granny’s funeral.

But they were dead chuffed, though ah don’t think they knew whit tae make of it at first. Ah watched their faces as they listened the first time: ma daddy’s wee smile as he recognised the lamas’ chantin then, them lookin at each other as ma voice came in singin ‘
Salve Regina
’. When it was finished ma daddy said, ‘That’s amazin, hen,’ and Mammy gied me a hug and said, ‘Well done.’

‘Put it on again, Anne Marie,’ says ma daddy.

‘Aye, you cannae really take it in all at once,’ says Mammy.

So ah played it over a few times, waitin for them tae say mair, say sumpn detailed aboot it, aboot the way it hung thegether or the effect or that, but all Mammy said was, ‘It’s brilliant. It really grows on you.’ And ma daddy said, ‘Yous’re bound tae win, hen.’

And ah was dead chuffed that they liked it but efterwards, sittin in ma room, ah kept feelin that there was sumpn missin. As if they hadnae really got it. And ah really wanted them, no just tae like it, but tae unnerstaund it. And ah didnae think they did.