the units were they dead expensive wans, wi a dragged paint finish on them and carved bits round the edges. Ah wondered how she made her money – couldnae see that this research lark could pay that much.
We sat doon at the kitchen table tae have wer tea.
‘You seem to enjoy your job, Jimmy.’
‘Aye, ah dae. Ah really love paintin that cornice of yours. It’s beautiful.’
‘Yes, it’s going to be lovely when it’s finished. So many people just paint them one colour but I think you owe it to the design to pick it out in different ones.’
‘A lot of folk want tae dae that but when you gie them the estimate and tell them how much time it’s gonnae take they change their minds. It is a lot dearer.’
‘How long d’you think it’s going to take you?’
‘Well, wi me bein on ma ain noo, a bit longer. Ah mean the mully’s aw done but there’s still the joe loss.’
‘Huh?’
‘Painter-speak. Mully’s emulsion, Joe Loss – gloss.’
She laughed. ‘I like that. What other words do you use between yourselves?’
‘Ah don’t know if ah can tell you – ah mean, givin away state secrets and that …’
‘Go on, won’t tell a soul.’
‘Well, if you ever get a painter in for an estimate and he says tae his mate, “This is an elsie”, run a mile – means they’re just gonnae put wan coat of paint on it. Elsie Tanner – wanner – get it?’
‘My God.’ She was really laughin noo, her eyes shone. Ah’d never seen her like that.
‘That was how me and John set up in business for wersels. We used tae work for this guy years ago and he just cut corners aw the time. You’d put wan coat on a wall and it’d be near four o’clock and he’d come in and say, “That’ll dae boys, that’s an elsie, finish up.” See, it can look OK wi wan coat but when you look close there’s streaks and everythin in it – it’s no right. And you’d say, “Naw, it’s no an elsie,” but he was the boss. And we got jobs all right but you wouldnae get folk askin you back, no unless they were blind. So me and John decided tae set up on wer ain, dae things properly.’
‘I like that, it shows you’ve got integrity.’
‘Well who wants tae dae folk? Fair’s fair – you may as well dae it right. And the thing is, it pays in the long run. When we sterted oot we didnae know if it would work oot or no but that’s us gaun for nine year noo and we’re always workin and maisty oor work is word of mouth – folk recommend us and we get asked back. And we make good money.’
‘Right livelihood. Very Buddhist.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Most people think Buddhism’s about meditating, but it’s really about how you live your whole life. Part of it is the idea that you make your living in a good way, not a harmful or dishonest one.’
‘So all this time ah’ve been a Buddhist while ah’m paintin. Ah could of saved masel all that hassle meditatin.’
‘I think maybe that’s true – I don’t mean that you shouldn’t meditate, but … I don’t know how to put it; it’s as if we’re always trying to get there, reach something, and that isn’t it. It’s being fully aware in the day to day that’s important, being completely engaged in what we’re doing. And maybe for you, it’s the painting. When you’re doing your job, you’re fully present.’
Ah sat for a moment, haudin the mug, cradlin it in ma haund. What was left of the tea was cauld noo but ah didnae want tae put it doon, didnae want tae stop this conversation. Barbara looked straight at me, serious, but wi a wee hauf smile; and it was the first time ah’d ever seen that look on anybody but the lama. Just for a moment, a split second, it was as though the room had disappeared and there was just the two of us, mugs in wer haunds, lookin. Ah wanted tae ask her mair, talk aboot it, but somehow ah fund ah couldnae speak, just sat there. Then ah stood up.
‘Better get back tae ma meditatin, then.’
Barbara smiled.
‘Me too.’ She lifted the mugs and took them tae the sink.
Ah stopped at the door. ‘Eh, Barbara, mind you were askin how long the job’s gonnae take?’
She turned roond. ‘Yes – have you any idea? I mean, it doesn’t really matter, it’s just if it’s going to be over the weekend I need to rearrange some plans.’
‘Well, ah was gonnae suggest, if you didn’t mind me stayin a bit longer, workin intae the evenin a bit, ah could finish it quicker.’
‘That would be great. If you don’t mind – makes it a long day for you.’
‘If ah leave at teatime ah’m only gonnae hit the rush hour traffic anyway, so ah’m wastin time sittin in a traffic queue.’
‘Why don’t you do that then, stay a bit later, but on one condition.’
‘Whit’s that?’
‘You need to let me give you something to eat – you can’t work late on an empty stomach.’
‘Done.’
So the next few nights that was what ah done. Ah fund masel gettin intae a routine, heidin through tae Embra in the mornin, gettin a paper and a roll at a wee shop round the corner fae Barbara’s. Then she’d make me a cuppa tea and ah’d get stuck intae the work aw day wi just a wee break at lunchtime. She left me by masel durin the day but about five o’clock she’d make a meal, pasta or rice wi vegetables; no a big dinner, just enough tae keep me gaun. It was nice, sittin in the kitchen, cosy. She lit caundles every night and we’d sit there wi some classical music on the CD. She never really talked aboot hersel much, nothin personal, just aboot meditation or the work she was daein or asked me aboot ma job. It was weird, sittin in candelight across fae a wumman and just no really knowin anythin aboot her. Efter we’d eaten ah’d get back tae work and dae another coupla hours then heid hame. Ah was back about nine at night and risin at haulf six so you’d of thought ah’d of been knackered but ah wasnae. Seemed tae have loads a energy – no mad, jumpin aboot energy, just feelin right in masel, kind of peaceful and centred.
By the Thursday ah’d finished the cornice and all the woodwork in the big room. It looked brilliant. The two of us stood at the door and just looked.
‘It’s fantastic, Jimmy, I’m so pleased.’
‘Aye, me too. Pity John cannae see it … ah’ll need tae take a photie.’
‘Jimmy, d’you think you could do me a favour tomorrow?’
‘What is it?’
‘Well I’d like to get the room back to order. Could you help me put up the curtains – they’re velvet so they’re a bit heavy.’
‘Aye, nae bother. Ah’ve no that much left the morra. Just the woodwork in the hall and the last coat
