Tony Hogan Bought Me an Ice-Cream Float Before He Stole My Ma (9 page)

BOOK: Tony Hogan Bought Me an Ice-Cream Float Before He Stole My Ma
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Grandma's violet eyes were blue behind a film of tears. She touched Ma's face, the bruises green and brown now, the tape over her nose gone, leaving grubby marks.

‘Do yeh have to go straight away though? An' looking like that.'

‘Aw, don't worry; down there they'll just think I had a nose job.' Ma gave a hard laugh. ‘An' yer right enough, if we stay he'll find us an' the wee madam here is better off away, just fer a while.'

I circled my arms around Ma's legs, I said nothing though I was fairly sure who ‘the wee madam' was.

‘Yeh know if it wasnae fer my hip I would've minded her for yeh? Don't yeh?'

Ma didn't reply, just bent down to me and gave me a shove towards the door. ‘Say bye tae Grandma, Janie, yeh won't see her for a wee while.'

Grandma bent down and tears splashed onto the concrete between our feet. ‘My darlin', you be good, alright?' She puckered her shimmery lips and gave me a wet kiss that left me wiping my mouth with the hem of my skirt.

Ma rolled her eyes.

‘Ignore her, Ma, thinks she's too big fer kisses nowadays. She'll . . . we'll be home fer Christmas anyway, once it's died down, or yeh could come tae where we are?'

‘Well, let's see where yeh end up, I can't take travelling like I used tae.' She looked behind us at Frankie. ‘Well, enough of making a show of myself on the doorstep. Get off or yeh'll miss yer bus.'

Her door was closed by the time we had walked back to the car. No backward glances on either side.

‘Was she alright?' Frankie asked, his eyes on the road.

‘Aye, she just loves a bit of drama, even at her own kid's expense. Mark my words, tonight she'll be off having a laugh with Aggie at bingo and she'll barely remember she has a daughter.' Ma looked in the rear-view mirror, prodding at her bruises. ‘Frankie, do yeh think I could tell people this is a nose job?'

He turned his head. ‘Not with the nose on you, sis. Sorry, but not a chance.'

8

The filthy coach station was full of the noise of people leaving. A hen party filled up most of the waiting room with their shrieks, criss-crossing arms passing bottles, their breasts bursting from the tops of dresses.

Ma looked over. ‘I hope to God they're not on with us.'

‘No, Ma, they're just here fer a bevvy.' My eyes were on the black-and-white departures board, waiting for the next change. ‘They just came here cause it was the first place the bride got a ride off her husband.'

‘What?'

The times changed and the slats on the board rolled over, making the sound of hand claps, black and white flashing like a swarm of insects' wings until the board lay flat again.

‘I heard them say just now.'

Frankie was laughing and craning his neck at the women, but Ma looked sad. ‘Right, well, let's get some sweets fer the journey.'

‘Why don't you go, sis? Yeh know some people's eyes are bigger than their bellies. I'll stay here an' mind her.'

She pulled a face at him but went off to the kiosk. As soon as she started walking Frankie pulled two twenty-pound notes from his jeans pocket. I tore my eyes from the board and started jumping to get them as he held the notes just out of reach.

‘Now, Janie, keep those safe. It's no tae buy toys or sweeties with, do yeh understand?' I nodded, though a second ago I was planning to run to the kiosk and buy every packet of Jelly Tots they had. ‘If you an' yer ma get stuck an yeh need a taxi or maybe a proper dinner then yeh can use it. Now put it somewhere safe.' He watched me fold the money into soft squares and tuck it in the empty Velcroed slot in my Glow Worm that should have held batteries.

‘An' it's our secret, aye? Don't tell yer ma until yeh need tae, when yeh get really skint.'

I grabbed his forearm and got him to swing me. My Glow Worm and I had a secret but I thought maybe I'd be allowed to tell my da.

*

With every turn of the wheel my throat closed and my stomach flipped. Ma had made us queue for twenty minutes outside the coach so we could get the three back seats by the toilet; she said it was for space but I had a growing doubt about that. I lay on Ma's lap, tasting the sweet, bitter taste of my own bile.

‘Can I have a sweetie? Tae take away the taste?'

‘No, Janie, yer better off with an empty stomach. We're not out of town yet an' there's a long way tae go.'

The bus rocked from side to side and in the dim of the robot-eye ceiling lights I saw the man who was sitting in the seat in front of the toilets watching us. He was old, maybe fifty, with shiny eyes under long scratchy-looking eyebrows; I named him Mr Badger. I felt his eyes whisker over our bodies, fall on Ma's bruised face and spiky hair, then scurry across the fringe that I'd cut myself with kitchen scissors behind Frankie's sofa. I felt the shiny dots of his eyes land on my grey socks with holes and I tucked the worst one under the other and turned my face towards Ma's belly.

‘Come on, Janie,' she said, stroking my head, ‘yer just a wee bit travel-sick. We'll stop soon an' yeh can have a bit of juice an' we'll tidy you up.'

I pulled my knees in tighter, to squeeze out the sick feeling and forget the smell of the plastic toilet bowl with petal-shaped fag burns around the rim and thought my da had better be really special. I thought he would be. Ma didn't used to like speaking about him but suddenly she wanted to tell me how funny he was, that he played tricks and was always nice to cats and children.

At Newcastle we got off and I walked with Ma through the bright service station like the marrow had been sucked from my shin bones. She said this was the latest I had ever stayed up and that it was a special treat, but when I saw people spearing coils of pale bacon and greasy slabs of fried egg into their mouths I was sick on the floor in front of the cafe. It didn't feel like a treat.

Outside the air dried the sweat on my forehead and Ma held a Ribena carton, telling me to take little sips, but each drop of sweet purple juice made my tummy twist.

‘Will I smell like sick fer meeting Da?'

‘Ach, Janie, no.' Ma gave a smile and ruffled my fringe. ‘We'll tidy yeh up. Besides, it's probably him yeh get it from. He used tae have tae get steaming before a big journey. Absolutely blotto.'

I pushed the carton away and stared at her from under lowered eyebrows. ‘Well, yeh could've got me steaming an' all then, Ma!'

*

We were second back on the bus, after Mr Badger and his big eyebrows.

‘Excuse me, miss?'

He stood in the aisle. Ma stopped a step away from him. ‘Aye?' Her voice was cold.

‘I hope you don't mind but I thought you and the kiddie could use this?'

In his hands was a tartan blanket, the white price label still swinging from a corner.

‘What for?'

‘To keep you both warm.' He smiled. ‘These northern summers can turn and it's cold to be travelling in just T-shirts. I've daughters of my own and –'

‘We've jumpers.'

‘And . . . it's a gift . . . to keep.' He extended the blanket. ‘Please.'

Ma's hand got hotter in mine. ‘Thank you,' she said taking it, ‘it's really decent of you.'

He said nothing but sat down and allowed us to pass. Back at our seats I lay down and let the soft blanket, smelling of nothing but new, wrap itself over me, and behind my head felt Ma's stomach soften as though she was letting go of a long breath. I whispered, ‘Is my da as nice as him?'

‘In a different way, aye. Yer da's less . . . traditional.'

I felt Ma move before I saw him.

‘You don't mind if I sit here, petal?' A fat belly in a yellow T-shirt and a hand with ginger hairs on the knuckles holding a can of lager. ‘Can I offer you a tinny? Help you sleep?'

Ma stiffened. ‘No thanks.'

‘Suit yerself, love. Just bein' friendly.'

The engine started, the lights went down.

‘Ma, I feel sick, I think it was the Ribena.'

‘Shh, Janie, try tae think of something else. Listen, mister, my wee girl's sick . . . it's her first time on a coach an' I really think she'll feel better if she can sleep. Would you mind moving so she can stretch out?'

There was a long silence, the can disappeared and then appeared again. ‘There's no seats.'

‘There's one right there, look.'

‘Yeah,' he said in a loud whisper like Grandma's, ‘but I'm no sittin' next to a Paki.'

Ma's hand clenched her knee. ‘Right. Fine.'

She tried to move me into a better position but the tipping of my head brought up the rush of warm, sweet sick collecting in my throat and I bent my head over Ma's lap and let it out. When I opened my eyes his trainers were covered with pink watery vomit.

‘Bloody hell!' He went into the toilet, slamming the door after him. I cried as the smell spread like a pink mist through the air.

‘I'm sorry, Ma, I couldnae hold it.'

Ma kissed my sweaty face and shifted into his seat, putting her feet to the side of my sick. ‘It's all right, Janie, really. Now stretch yer legs all the way out, there's a good girl.'

*

As soon as I got off the coach I saw Nell. Except of course it wasn't, neither were any of the other round-hipped, dark-skinned women who made my heart soar and dip, a bird in the wind, while we waited for the bus.

We caught a red double-decker and Ma squeezed us to the front so we could sit on the seat diagonal to the driver and look straight out. They had a special man who came and took our money and gave us bus tickets.

‘Well, what do yeh think, Janie? This is London.'

I thought London seemed like smears of colour through the window and that the people were worms twisting blindly in dirt, moving around each other as though they each knew where the other would step before they'd decided themselves.

‘Ma? What's wrong with her?'

Ma followed my finger to a woman swathed in black with just a letter box of space for her eyes, then smiled around the bus apologetically.

‘It's cause she's a different religion an' her husband doesn't want anyone but him tae see her body.'

‘Like Tony then.'

She gave me a hard look. ‘Aye, I guess a wee bit like Tony, but Janie, yer not to mention all that when we see yer da, alright?'

I breathed and misted the window and revealed London again stripe by stripe with my fingertips.

‘Will Da be happy tae see me? He won't mind babysitting? Yeh do like him again now?'

Ma pulled me from the window seat up onto her lap. ‘Aye, Janie. I was just upset cause he went on such a long holiday an' when yeh miss someone yeh get sad sometimes.'

I thought about Nell and decided this made sense while Ma cleared the window with a zigzag of her palm.

‘But now it's fine cause, after all –' she reached up and straightened my fringe with her fingers – ‘he's yer da and deserves some time with yeh too. And that's why I need tae look fer the stop.' She crouched over me and cupped her hand to the windowpane. ‘I'll know it when I see it alright.'

But she didn't know and in the end we got off our bus and caught another back to Victoria Station and started again from the same bus stop.

Ma wouldn't answer any more of my questions and back at the bus stop I looked at her, marching ahead, with her sticking-out bones, stained jeans and sad bruised face and I didn't want to be with her. I wanted to be with my da in his nice big house. When I looked at Ma I got a temper snake in my belly eating through anything nice. I threw down my lunch box with a slam and refused to let go of the bus stop when another bus eventually came and Ma lifted my skirt and gave me a burning slap across the back of my legs before shouting at the people getting on the bus, the bus we should have caught. ‘What are yeh all looking at? Mind yer fuckin' business!'

When the bus pulled away I couldn't tell if the sardine-tight passengers thought me or Ma had had the worst tantrum.

We made up over a fluffy slice of lemon meringue pie in a cafe with tall stools and glass tables. Ma said it was worth it for the treat even though she counted the money in her purse twice after she paid the bill and left a few coins under the plate.

On our last bus I felt shame, the sticky material of the seat and Ma's slap prickling at the back of my knees as I stood wedged behind her fluffing her hair with my fingers. Ma's nose touched the window as she tried to see something but I didn't know what and she wouldn't tell me.

‘Come on, Janie, get yer stuff, this is us!'

Ma took our case and we stumbled out onto the almost dark street. My job was to carry my lunch box, Glow Worm and umbrella but I'd broken the catch of the lunch box and every few steps it would come apart and Ma would have to watch me, with her fingers jerking, put it all back: my brush, swimming costume, pink plastic cup, colouring pencils, all in their places.

‘Just shove it in, come on.'

It took us ages to find the right house. Ma stamped along the pavements like they might be tricking her and when we got to the house she spent a long time looking at the street and doors as though that might be a trick too.

The house was tall and white, like one off a fancy TV programme, with a door that shone in the orange street light and a big blank window at the front. There wasn't a sound on the curved street, just rows of silent white houses staring at us.

‘OK Janie, you stay right here with the bags.'

Ma clawed her lower lip with a sharp white tooth and climbed the six steps. Reminded, I licked my own crusty meringue moustache and started to brush my fringe. I was sure I smelt of sick and wished I had some of Jodie's Charlie perfume. Ma told me that Da looked just like me, ‘you're the spit of him', and I imagined him taller and in boys' clothes but with my wonky fringe, eyes that turned to a line of blondie lashes when he did a big smile, a dot of a nose in his round face; just like me.

My arms felt all twitchy, stuck on the wrong way, and my knees made little wobbles under me. I'd never really missed not having a da, lots of kids didn't have one on the estate, but now I couldn't wait to fill the gap I hadn't even known I had with a da like one from the TV, who would buy me presents, play games with me and eat Sunday roasts that Ma would cook and drench in gravy like that advert.

I didn't realise that the door had opened until I heard Ma's voice and turned to see a tall shadow in a thin column of light.

‘Please, Jennifer. Listen, I know this is a bit much but –'

I couldn't hear what this Jennifer was saying but I saw Ma's shoulders sag in the light. She raised her voice.

‘Of course she is. An' I'll tell yeh what else, it was him who wanted rid, not me!'

The chink of light got thinner. I tried to breathe quieter and heard a few words, the tone cold enough to make your teeth sting just from listening.

‘Steal . . . affair . . . drag him –'

‘Oh, an' yeh think that was stealing, do yeh? Well, since that's all he's ever given fer her upkeep I'd say he's the thief. An' he knew where we were. Now it's his turn tae –'

The door slammed, sharp and final as a slap. But clearly the door and this Jennifer didn't know what they were dealing with. No door was big enough to shut the Ryan Temper out.

‘Janie! Come on.' Ma came down and yanked my arm so the contents of the lunch box scattered. She started pulling our suitcase up the stairs. ‘Come on! Pick it up and get up here.'

I piled everything into my arms and climbed the steps. ‘Ma? Is this Da's house? An' that woman, is she angry with us fer coming at night-time? Was she watching
Corrie
?'

Ma kicked over the suitcase with her heel and it fell with a thud on the doorstep. ‘Be quiet an' sit down, Janie.' She bent to the letter box and shouted through the flap, ‘An' if yeh don't believe me come an' take a look at her face! One look. Don't think I want anything from you but an address or a number. An' if we've tae stay here all night I'll get one.'

BOOK: Tony Hogan Bought Me an Ice-Cream Float Before He Stole My Ma
13.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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