need tae be well pistachio-ed tae paint yer livin room like that.
Ah could hear Mammy and the twins outside. If ah got out the road quick ah’d miss their bedtime. Ah slipped through the close, away tae the far endy the back court and hunkered doon at the wall. Mrs Flanagan’s washin was still out, her enormous great drawers and her man’s gigantic tartan boxers saggin fae the line. Ah think if ma bum was as big as that ah’d dry ma washin inside. In the bin shelter the Jacksons’ grey cat slithered round the edge of a wheelie bin, its tail skitterin against the plastic.
Ah leaned on the wall, took Wuthering Heights out ma pocket and opened it at ma favourite bit.
‘My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath, a source of little visible delight, but necessary.’
Patrick came doon the path carryin a plastic binbag.
Mammy’s wonderin where you are. Better get inside.
Okay. Patrick, are there any moors round here?
Moors?
Aye. Emily used tae wander aboot the moors.
Ah don’t think you want tae dae that. You might get consumption.
Consumption no be done aboot it?
Patrick stood leanin against the washin pole, swingin the bag fae side tae side. The grass was all worn and patchy under his foot.
If you like, ah’ll teach you tae bake bread.
Really?
Ah’ll bring hame some yeast the morra. Mammy’s no workin so you won’t have tae watch the twins. You can watch yer dough risin instead.
Patrick lifted the lid of the bin and chucked the binbag inside. Then he went out the gate and doon the lane. The last of the sun was vanishin over the roof tops and the back of the buildin looked like a castle, big grey blocks a sandstone risin out the earth. Deep recessed sills. Mammy would of liked a new house wi wur ain garden, but Da loved ten ements. Solid, he’d say. Built tae last. He was a tiler tae trade, done bathrooms and kitchens maistly, but he loved the tiles in our close, the subtlety of their colours, even the wee cracks that ran through them. They don’t make them like that noo.
Our flat was two up and at the back bedroom windae the curtains were drawn. With a bit of luck the twins would be lyin next tae their scabby Barbies, sleepin like wee angels, breathin deeply and dreamin about line dancin. Ma and Da would be sittin on the couch thegether, watchin TV.
The grass felt sticky wi damp and deep grey settled round the back court. The fluorescent light in our kitchen flickered then snapped on, and Mammy’s face was at the windae, peerin out. She spotted me and smiled, made a T sign wi her index fingers. Ah gied her the thumbs-up, lifted ma book, and heided inside.
PATRICK TOOK THE lump of dough ah’d been wrestlin with and kneaded it, pushin the outer part intae the centre, then pressin wi the fleshy part of his palm, just at the base of his thumb, fingers steady and firm. The yella daud, crisscrossed wi creases, smoothed intae a solid mass.
Looks like you’re giein it a massage.
Wouldnae like tae get wan fae you then. He kidded on he was attackin the dough.
Ah dunted him in the ribs.
Ow, ow, Mammy she’s attackin me.
Don’t make a mess, you two – yer Auntie Janice’ll be here soon. Mammy bent doon tae the washin machine, hauled the claes out.
Patrick plaited the dough intae a neat shape.
Here, brush a wee drap milk on the tap – a wee bit – you’re no emulsionin the walls.
The milk dripped aff the brush, left a sticky trail on the worksurface.
Stick it in the oven and whatever you dae don’t open it for twenty minutes.
Can you hang these out for me, hen? Looks as though the rain’ll keep aff for a while.
Ah wasnae convinced – a big grey cloud was heidin in fast – but ah never said anythin. When it comes tae washin Mammy is the eternal optimist. We’ve got a pulley but she just loves hangin the washin outside. When she got the new machine last year the guy in the shop tellt her she could get wan wi a tumble drier for the same price but she didnae want it. Doesnae smell the same if you don’t put it outside, she said.
Auntie Janice arrived in the close just as ah was comin in fae the back court. She’s only five year younger than Mammy but looks completely different; short spiky hair wi coloured streaks through it, a nose stud and trendy claes.
Hi Fiona. She gied me a big hug. How’s the poetry?
Ah wrote a new wan last night. About the wee cat in the bin shelter.
Good for you.
Miss Hughes said you could write poetry about ordinary things as well.
We went upstairs and in the front door. Janice shouted, Anybody here? so the twins would have time tae hide. Ever since they were wee she done this same routine but they never seemed tae get fed up wi it. Then she said in a very loud voice, What a shame. Ah was so lookin forward tae seein the twins. Oh well. Ah’ll just need tae eat these sweeties all by mysel.
All of a sudden she was near knocked tae the ground by what looked like twenty twins chargin fae the livin room. Mammy appeared at the door of the kitchen and they turnt back intae angels.
Don’t jump on your auntie like that. And you’re no gettin sweeties at this time of the day – they can go in the cupboard for later. Janice, you’ll need tae stop bringin them so much rubbish.
The twins followed us into the kitchen.
What’s that smell? said Rona.
Patrick’s teachin me tae bake bread – he showed me how tae dae the kneadin and everythin.
Yuck, said Mona and they disappeared intae the bedroom to play.
It’s just about ready, said Patrick. Want tae take it out the oven?
Ah opened the door and there it was, a beautiful golden plaited loaf. Ah lifted it out, turned it carefully ontae the rack tae cool.
That smells fantastic, said Janice.
Fiona’s first loaf. You can have some wi your tea. Mammy switched on the kettle.
Wanny the auld guys showed me how tae dae it by haund, said Patrick. It’s all machines at the bakery noo.
Really? said Janice. Another illusion shattered.
Once we were sittin round the table Janice turnt tae Mammy and said, Will ah tell them now?
