I saw the swing for my head with the heavy bong about ten minutes before I walked in the room. His reactions were slow. I caught his arm while I still held the other’s face. ‘Now, lads, that’s not very clever.’
I yanked them together. They were weak, emaciated.
I cracked one with a right and his head fired back into the other’s.
Blood gushed from an eye and a nose simultaneously.
‘I told you, you’ve lost all privileges.’
Looks, first to each other, then to me. ‘What you saying?’
‘Do I need to spell it out?’
‘We’re set up here…’
‘Not any more you’re not.’
A chest got stuck out, a white baseball cap went back as a headbutt was aimed at me. I saw it in slow-mo. There’s only one way to deal with a nut-job. I dropped my own head; he smacked his nose off the top of my skull, fell to his knees. Blood oozed. His brother tried to raise him.
‘Are you both entirely stupid?’
‘What about our stuff?’
‘I’ll put it all in a bag and chuck it the fuck out… You want to argue?’
They turned, walked to the door. I went with them, watched them open up.
They said nothing as they got to the gate. Left it flapping. I called them back. ‘Close it.’
They complied.
I saw the neighbour’s curtains twitching. ‘One last thing… I hear either of you have been within a country mile of this place again, I’ll find you.’
Stuttering: ‘And then what?’
I looked that one in the eye, said, ‘If I find you there’s no “and then what”.’
I let my mother sleep for a couple of hours or so. Tried to tidy the place up. Roach dowps scattered everywhere. Found a bag of skunk — pocketed that. The rest I binned. Took down the net curtains, put them in a basin of bleach. It looked like the first time the windows had been open in weeks. With some fresh air the place brightened a bit. Ceiling had turned yellow, though; would need repainting.
When my mother appeared I was stood with a duster in my hand. She laughed, ‘Och, Gus, that’s some picture.’
I raised the duster. ‘Well, glad I can amuse you.’
She came in, sat down, looked about. ‘You have the place lovely.’
I put down the duster, fitted the cap to the Mr Sheen furniture polish. ‘What happened here, Mam?’
She shook her head, looked out the window. ‘I don’t know, Gus.. They were such nice laddies once.’
I didn’t know what to say. Anything I trotted out would sound like a Daily Mail editorial… blame the parents, breakdown of society, yob culture. ‘What about Catherine?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why aren’t they with her?’
‘She turned them out… Had enough.’
Where the hell had I been? Had I lost touch with my whole family? ‘I don’t understand, Mam… If they were so bad their own mother turns them out, why would you pick them up?’
My mother grabbed her wrist, squeezed. ‘You can’t turn your back on your own… I might be old-fashioned, but it’s just not what you do.’
I thought of Katrina Crawford — did she have that notion?
‘But Mam, look what they did here.’ I pointed to her lip. ‘Look what they did to you.’
My mother put her face in her hands. I knew I’d pressed her too hard, too soon. I went to her side, placed an arm around her. ‘Hey, never mind, eh.’
She started to shake, sob.
‘Mam, c’mon… you did your bit. You can’t change what they’ve become.’
‘Och, Gus, it’s so sad. I feel so responsible for you all.’
I wondered what possible reason my mother could find to blame herself for what I’d become.
‘Mam, no. That’s not true. People go their own way. You have to let them make their own mistakes and face the consequences.’
She trembled some more, grabbed her wrist again. I placed a hand over hers, said, ‘C’mon, I’ll make you some tea.’
She smiled, brightened. ‘That would be nice.’
In the kitchen I put the kettle on.
As I stood staring out the back window I felt such an emptiness. There was so much hurt and disappointment in my mother’s eyes. I wanted to have been able to provide her with some happiness. I knew if I’d made more of a success of myself she would have had something to latch on to. The list of people I’d failed and disappointed hung round me now like a darkness.
I poured myself some Black Bush from a half-bottle I carried. Brought my mother her tea; sat down.
‘Thanks, son.’
‘No bother.’
Awkward silence.
‘How’s things going with the writing?’
‘Och, y’know… it’s going. Working a story.’
She looked embarrassed. I wanted to say something, anything, just to give her some iota of hope. ‘I saw Deborah again.’
Her eyes lit. ‘You did?’
‘Well, we went for a walk.’
A full-on smile. ‘That’s wonderful… I always knew that girl was the right one for you.’
Hell, I’d said too much. But could I take it back? Not ever.
‘Well, it’s early days.’ I was leading my mother astray. My mouth was wandering — what had I said? I just so wanted to give her one thing to feel good about. One good thing that came from me.
‘I’m so pleased, Angus. Really, so pleased.’
I drained my mug, jumped up. ‘Look, Mam, I have a little bit of business to attend to so-’
‘No, you go, son. You have your life to lead.’
‘I’ll come back soon. I’ll mow that lawn when it’s dry. And the ceiling — it’ll need painted again-’
She raised a hand, cut me off: ‘Angus, I don’t need any looking after.’
‘No, Mam. That’s one thing I will be doing now. I’ll be keeping a closer eye on you, I promise.’
She smiled sweetly, drew her cardigan around her.
I headed out the door. She followed, waved me off as I passed into the same street I’d known since I was a boy.
The second I saw the Mondeo stuffed with suits I knew I’d made a mistake visiting my mother.
Chapter 36
A white police car, sirens blaring, pulled up behind me and mounted the kerb. The four doors of the Mondeo swung open. A cocky-looking wido fronted me. ‘Get in the car, Dury.’
As he spoke, I recognised him at once. ‘Fuck me, it’s the cludgie cop… Never made the dumpster, then?’
I was grabbed from all angles, arms up my back, cuffed. As they threw me in the back of the van I managed a glance at my mother’s window. Thanked God there was no sign of her.
My mind raced. Only the effects of the Black Bush kept me together.
We drove in silence.
At the nick they checked me in.
In a police cell, facing a murder charge — was this really what my life had come to?
