and the next thing ah knew Anne Marie was staundin beside me.
‘Is it that time already?’
‘It’s five o’clock, Da, Mammy’ll be hame in hauf an hour.
‘Five o’clock. Ah must of been asleep for hours.’
‘You were snorin like a pig. Are yous no meant tae be gaun oot the night?’
‘Aye, hen. Just gie’s a minute tae come to. Ah hate fallin asleep in the efternoon.’
‘Want a cuppa tea? Ah’ll make you wan afore ah go roond tae ma granny’s. Ah’m stayin there the night.’
‘Ta, hen.’
The wee yin planted a cuppa tea doon on the bedside table and went aff. Ah was sittin, lettin the hot tea help me come to, when the door opened and Liz’s heid appeared.
‘Look at sleepin beauty.’
‘You’re early.’
‘Mr Anderson was feelin kind – he tellt me tae go at hauf-four the day since it’s the holiday weekend. Whit happened tae you?’
‘Ah was pure shattered. Lay doon for ten minutes and the next thing ah knew the wee yin was staundin at the bed tellin me it’s five o’clock.’
‘Is she away round tae her granny’s?’
‘Aye. Whit time are we supposed tae be gettin them?’
‘Angie phoned me at ma work. Siobhan’s no well so they’ve called it off.’
‘Nothin serious?’
‘Naw, don’t think so. Just a wee temperature – sumpn gaun round the nursery. But you know whit Angie’s like. They just need tae cough and she’s callin the doctor.’
‘So, want tae just go oot wersels?’
‘If you like.’
Liz was sitting on the bed, her back tae me. Her skirt had rode up a bit, showin her thigh and there’s sumpn aboot the line of her neck, the way it curves on her shoulder, her hair kind of wispy over it. And it had been over a week noo. Ah put ma haund oot and touched her neck. Then ah moved closer.
‘Or we could just stay in. Phone up for a Chinese. There’s a bottle of wine in the fridge.’
‘Uh huh.’
‘Efter all, we’ve goat an empty the night.’
She turned tae face me and ah knew it was OK.
Later, we were sittin up in bed drinkin the wine, ma airm round her.
‘So how come yous have been workin aw these extra hours? Ah thought you said it was just a couple of rooms you were daein?’
‘Aye, but that was afore this lassie started choppin and changin her mind aboot the colour scheme. See, she’d wanted the lounge painted champagne, tae match her Versace troosers.
‘You are jokin.’
‘Ah’m no, honest. They were leather, skin-tight, you should of seen wee Boabby’s face when she came intae the room in them, ah thought he’d need resuscitated.’
‘Some folk have got mair money than sense.’
‘Nae skin aff our noses. At least we’re gettin some of it. Anyway that wasnae whit caused the hassle.’
‘Naw?’
‘We got the shade matched and painted the room and it was lookin fine and we’d just started on the joe loss when her highness changed her mind. She’d got fed up wi they troosers, she’d bought a new pair and could we paint the room lilac noo?’
‘Whit!’
‘Ah’m no kiddin. It was the boyfriend tellt us, brung the troosers in hissel so we could match the exact shade. She was too busy. It was that important it looked right for a big party they were havin at the weekend.
‘“You know whit women are,” he says.
‘“Oh aye,” says Boabby. “Ma missus is just the same. Gets the kitchenette redecorated every time she gets a wee top oot What Evries.”’
‘You’re havin me on, Jimmy.’
‘Did you no see their kitchenette efter Irene got they leopardskin breeks – it took Boabby days tae get that spotty paint.’
She started tae giggle and dug me in the ribs.
‘Hey, that was sore …’
‘Sorry. Naw … ah mean, you know … the girlfriend gettin the livin room painted lilac.’
‘Are you tellin me if ah had that kindy money you widnae be gettin the hoose repainted tae match yer gear?’
‘If you’d that kindy money Jimmy, ah think you’d have wanny the Spice Girls fur a wife, no me.’
‘That’ll be the day.’
‘The money, or the glammy wife?’
‘Ah think you’re glammy enough for me. Anyhow they Spice Girls are auld hat. Ah’d need tae get Britney.’
‘Britt Ekland’s mair your age. Anyway, if we were that rich, ah wouldnae want a hoose. Ah think ah’d just live out of doors on some desert island … wouldnae wear any claes, just wanny they sarong things, silk, wrapped round me …’
‘Oh, stop it, stop it,’ ah started writhin aboot in the bed. ‘Ah’ve spilled ma wine … aw, fuck me!’
‘Whit – again?’
Ah was that relieved things were back tae normal between me and Liz that the retreat went clean oot ma mind, but on the Tuesday when ah went tae the Centre it all came back tae me. Every week the Rinpoche gied a wee talk then led us through a meditation. After that we’d have a cuppa tea, sit roond and blether. We could ask questions or discuss anythin tae dae wi oor practice and that was a good time tae have a word on the QT if ye wanted tae say anythin personal.
Anyhow, it was when we were daein the meditation ah started tae think aboot how different it was here fae when ah was on retreat. As soon as ah heard the Rinpoche’s voice it semed tae get me calmed doon and followin ma breathin. Ah could dae it. Felt at hame. Efterwards ah wanted tae ask him about it but couldnae say in fronty the rest. Somehow, though, it was as if he knew. He turned tae me and said, ‘So, Jimmy, how was your retreat?’
‘Kind of haurd gaun, Rinpoche – too many carrots.’
Everybuddy laughed.
‘So you are taking the orange way to enlightenment – the future is bright.’
‘Sumpn like that.’
He didnae say anythin else, just
