style="font-size:15px;"> Ah’m havin a baby. Janice’s eyes shone.
Congratulations, said Patrick.
That’s great, ah said, chewin the bread. It was warm and the butter melted intae it. Tasted better than any bread ah’d ever had. Ah didnae know you had a boyfriend.
Ah don’t, she said.
Sorry. Ah felt ma face gaun red. Should of known better. Auntie Janice was dead independent. Career woman, Da called her. Lots of women are single parents noo. And you’ve got a good job and everythin.
Ah’m no gonnae be a single parent – me and Angela will bring the baby up thegether.
Your flatmate?
My partner.
Ah felt like a right numpty. Couldnae say anythin. Scared ah’d say somethin else stupid. Janice talked about how the father was a friend of theirs but he lived abroad and wouldnae have much tae dae wi the wean.
After we’d had tea Janice and Mammy took the twins out to the park, leavin me and Patrick to dae the washin up.
You’re awful quiet, he said. You okay? About Janice?
Aye – it’s just, ah just never realised.
She’s been livin wi Angela for years. They dae everythin thegether.
Aye but so dae Jean and Betty up the stair.
Uhhuh, said Patrick.
You’re kiddin. Jean and Betty are about ninety-five.
No quite. Anyway, d’you think folk grow out of it when they get past a certain age?
Naw, ah didnae mean that. Just cannae imagine them …
Ah didnae know what ah meant. Never thought about it really. There was lesbian couples on the TV sometimes but that was different, they werenae real, characters in a soap opera or film stars or that. The idea that my auntie or the two wee auld ladies up the stair could be like that. It was just weird.
Patrick finished the last plate, wiped his haunds on the edge of the teatowel ah was usin. You’re no … ah mean you don’t think there’s anythin wrang wi it, dae you?
Ah wiped the sink wi the cloth and hung it on the drainin board.
Mammy seems to think it’s okay.
But ma da thought there was somethin wrang about it.
What about the baby but?
What about it? said Mammy. The twins were away tae their beds and the resty us were sittin in the living room, watchin TV, well, no actually watchin it, watchin ma da flick through the channels while we were waitin for ER tae come on.
Janice’ll be a great mother.
That’s all very well when it’s toty, said ma da. But when it grows aulder it’ll start askin where its daddy is.
Loads of weans never have a daddy in the first place. Or they have one that’s never around. At least Angela will be there.
No the same, said ma da.
Ah know it’s no the same, said Mammy. But there’s different ways of daein things. Janice cannae help how she is.
Ah kept quiet. Ah was surprised they were havin this conversation in fronty me and ah thought if ah said anything, they might stop. A few month ago they’d never of mentioned sex, even though Mammy had tellt me about it that long ago ah couldnae remember no knowin. And if anythin sexy came on the TV they’d change channels or send me out tae make tea.
Ah never said she could. Ah just think her and Angela should be discreet, no flauntin it.
Da, said Patrick. Why should they have tae lie about their relationship?
Ah never said that, you’re puttin words in ma mouth. There’s a difference between bein discreet and lyin. Ah mean we don’t run round the hoose wi nae claes on, dae we?
Patrick laughed. We don’t. But some families dae. Willie Slavin’s ma and da have a shower and then walk through the hall wi nothin on.
How d’you know that?
Harry tellt me. He was in the hoose wan day when Mrs Slavin walked in the livin room, said ‘ah think ah left ma hairbrush in here,’ picked it up and walked out again, starkers.
Jeezo. Ah think that proves ma point about discretion, said ma da. Mrs Slavin.
Could be worse, said Patrick. At least the Flanagans arenae at it.
Da turnt the volume up. Shoosh. It’s startin.
AS WE LEFT the chapel Mrs Reilly slipped a sweetie tae the twins like she done every week after mass. The twins mouthed thankyous and Mammy smiled, placin the sweets in her bag. For later, she’d say, but later, at hame, she’d throw them in the bin.
Such a lovely family.
Mrs Reilly wore a knitted beret even on a day like this in the height of summer. She sat in the pew in fronty us. Da was always nearest the centre aisle, then Patrick, me, Mammy, Rona and Mona. When the twins were toddlers it was easier tae have them at that end so if they got girny Mammy could bundle them out doon the side without disturbin the whole congregation.
Nooadays, of course, they were model children. Hair smoothed back in alice bands, wearin identical pink cord skirts and sparkly tee shirts, white frilly socks and patent shoes, they sat demurely through mass, kneelin and staundin and sittin when they were supposed tae, only occasionally takin out their fifty pence piece for the collection and examinin it. They’d made their first Holy Communion in May so we all went up thegether when it was time, me sheltered behind Patrick’s blue cord jacket. He attracted attention fae the granny brigade too as he was always smartly dressed, that different fae the other young guys in their jeans and trainers. Patrick didnae buy many claes but the ones he had were expensive. Between Patrick and the twins naebody ever noticed me, which suited me fine.
When my granny was alive we used tae go round tae hers every Sunday efternoon for gammon sangwiches and hard boiled eggs and cake wi pink and yella squares in it. There was a funny smell in my granny’s: the pot of soup on the stove, solid wi barley, the ancient cat that ignored the twins’ attempts tae get it tae play wi balls of wool, the carpet in the hall that looked as if it was ages wi my granny, all mingled intae one.
Noo she was gone Sundays felt looser. Sometimes Patrick was on the nightshift and went tae his room in the efternoon tae have a nap or lie on his bed, listenin tae music on his heidphones. The twins played in the back court, sometimes by theirsels, other times entertainin weans fae the next close wi cartwheels or dancin displays. Ah went round tae the swing park to meet my pals.
