Buddha Da Page 24

  Nisha’s ma put mugs of tea on the table. ‘How much longer d’you think you’ll be?’

  ‘Nae idea,’ said Gurpreet. ‘These two keep changing their minds.’

  ‘Oh, aye,’ said Nisha. ‘If you’d just do it our way instead of tryin to change it all the time we’d get on a lot faster.’

  ‘Just giving you the benefit of my experience.’ Gurpreet leaned back in his seat, stretchin his airms behind his heid. He knew it would piss Nisha aff.

  Nisha muttered somethin in Punjabi under her breath. Then she grabbed ma airm. ‘Anne Marie, let’s go out for ten minutes. Get some air.’

  ‘We need tae get on. I’ve a gig the night,’ said Gurpreet.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll be back before you’ve even finished your tea.’

  Nisha and me sat on the wee wall at the front of the hoose.

  ‘Ah just had tae get away from him. He’s drivin me daft.’

  ‘Makin this CD is drivin me daft. Ah feel as if ma brain’s stopped workin.’

  ‘Not long to go. It’ll be worth it.’

  ‘Aye. It’s just, ah never thought this last bit would be the hardest. Ah thought we’d done maist of it already.’

  ‘Ah know. But we’ve got to get it perfect.’ There was an edge tae Nisha’s voice, almost as if she was annoyed at me as well as Gurpreet, and her haunds were clenched tight intae fists.

  ‘It’s OK, Nish, we’ll get there. We’ve got time. Thank God it’s the holiday weekend. Two mair days.’

  ‘Ah know. Although two mair days of this and ah’ll have murdered Gurpreet.’ She took ma airm. ‘Let’s go over tae the swings.’

  There was a wee swing park just across fae Nisha’s hoose. Usually it was mobbed on a Saturday but it had been rainin and there was only wan wee boy playin on the baby chute, his ma catchin him at the end. The seats of the swings were still wet.

  ‘Got a hanky on you, Nish?’

  ‘Nope. We can stand. Hope Ma’s no lookin out the windae.’

  Nisha climbed on tae wanny the swings and stood up on the seat.

  ‘Gie’s a shove, Anne Marie.’

  Ah grabbed the seat and pulled it back as far as ah could, then let it go. Nisha swung backwards and forwards, pushin hersel higher and higher. Ah got on the wan next tae hers and started tae move, a bit wobbly at first – it’s hard tae push yersel staundin up – then steadier, intae a rhythm; the rush of the air as ah moved forward, the lurch in ma stomach as ah moved back. The sky was heavy and fulla clouds but there was a brightness behind it, that bright ah had tae shut ma eyes for a minute. Ah kept on swinging wi ma eyes shut, just the creak of the metal chains in ma ears, feelin like a bird, free and light.

  Ah slowed doon, then sat on the seat, swayin gently, wan foot tappin the ground. There’s a low wall round the swing park and the wee boy was walkin on tap of it, haudin his ma’s haund. At the bottom of the wall was a row of empty cans all set oot as if they were in a shop: at night you can look out of Nisha’s windae and see folk sittin on the benches drinkin, some of the third-years fae our school.

  Nisha stated hummin ‘Salve Regina’, quietly. Ah looked round at her and she was smilin. She nodded over tae the windae of their hoose. Gurpreet was wavin and pointin tae his watch. She started tae sing, keepin tae the tune, ‘I think it’s ti-ime for us to go and see Gurpreet. If we do-on’t then he will have a flakey.’

  ‘Amen,’ ah sang.

  Airm in airm, we crossed the road and heided inside.

  Liz

  THE BLEEDIN STARTED on the Sunday efternoon. Don’t know exactly when it started – ah went tae the bathroom and there it was; two red patches on the white of ma knickers, as if ah’d started a period. Ah flushed the toilet and started tae wash ma haunds. Lookin at masel in the mirror ah couldnae see any difference. Ma cheeks were pinker than usual, healthier, and ma eyes were shiny. Ah ran ma wrists under the cauld tap. Mibbe it was nothin, just a bit of spottin like ah’d had wi Anne Marie. It wasnae that heavy.

  Ah went back tae the livin room. Anne Marie was round at Nisha’s and ah’d been watchin a daft film on the TV, havin a cuppa tea. It was still sittin, hauf drunk, on the coffee table. Ah picked up the phone, dialled the doctor’s number.

  ‘The surgery is closed at the moment. Please ring back for appointments between the hours of eight and five-thirty, Monday to Friday. For emergency medical treatment ring 555 0274.’

  Ah put doon the phone. Emergency medical treatment. Was ah an emergency? The hospital number was on the wee card they’d gied me when ah went up for a scan.

  ‘Hello, may I help you?’

  ‘Ah’m no sure whit tae dae. Ah’m pregnant and ah’ve started bleedin. Ah phoned ma ain doctor but there’s naebody there.’

  ‘How many weeks?’

  ‘Six, seven.’

  ‘Well, you’d better come in and we’ll check you out.’

  ‘It’s OK. The heartbeat’s there, look.’

  The wee pulse of light, like a faraway star.

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘Ah’m fine.’

  The probe kept movin across me, slitherin on the jelly; her eyes fixed tae the screen.

  ‘Everything seems fine.’ She wiped ma belly dry wi a bit of paper towel.

  ‘What aboot the bleedin?’

  ‘Sometimes there’s a bit of spotting early on – it doesn’t mean you’ll lose the baby.’ She turned away and pulled aff her rubber gloves, chucked them in the bin.

  ‘Doctor, ah had sex yesterday.’

  ‘Lucky you.’

  She came ower and put her haund on ma airm. ‘Sorry, it’s been a long day.’

  ‘It’s OK.’

  ‘Look, the bleeding would probably have happened anyway. But maybe it’ll make you feel better if you don’t make love till after thirteen weeks. Just to be sure.’

  She studied the records in a beige file. ‘I see from your notes that you’ve had miscarriages before.’

  ‘Aye, two.’

  ‘So, I know this is worrying for you but, really, the chances are it’ll be OK this time. Just take it easy for the next six weeks till the first trimester is over.’

  ‘OK. Thanks.’

  She smiled. ‘It’ll be fine, you’ll see.’

  Sittin in the car in the car park a sick feelin washed over me. Ma face felt hot, even ma ears burned. Ah knew ah’d need tae eat somethin soon but ah couldnae find the energy tae move.

  Ah rested ma face against the steerin wheel. The feelin moved up fae the pit of ma stomach again, and at the bottom of it, just underneath, was fear. It’ll be all right, she’d said. Meanin ah’d have the baby OK, no loss it. But was that what ah wanted? When ah seen the blood, what had ah really felt? When ah lay on the couch and she started tae move the probe across ma belly, watchin the wavery images swirl across the screen, what did ah want tae hear her say? What would ah be feelin noo if she’d said, ‘Ah’m sorry …’

  When ah’d had they miscarriages afore, ah just wanted tae die masel – ah’ve never felt as bad, especially the second time. Ah wanted this baby, ah’d wanted another baby for as long as ah could remember. Ah kept puttin the feelin away in the back of ma mind but it was always there. And when the test was positive ah was so happy. Ah knew it was nae bed a roses – it was a crazy situation – but through it all was this feelin that ah was pregnant, a new life was growin inside of me and that was enough, that made it all right.

  So how come deep inside there was another part of me that was so scared – it was too hard, too complicated. Ah felt sick and heavy, ah wanted someone tae look efter me. And there was naebody. How come when the bleedin started ah never even phoned David tae see if he’d go tae the hospital wi me … it had never even crossed ma mind. Ah didnae think of him in that way. He was the baby’s faither but ah couldnae see how it would work oot. What would we dae? Where would we stay? And what aboot Anne Marie? Ah wanted another child, but she was ma daughter. Ah had tae think of her too. It was a mess.

  Ah could hear the TV fae the livin r
oom. Jimmy was sittin on the couch watchin the footie. He turned doon the sound wi the remote when ah walked in.

  ‘Ah wasnae expectin you.’

  ‘Just came round tae get ma paint – ah left a wee pot of gold paint here last night – have you seen it?’

  ‘Aye, it’s in that drawer there.’

  ‘Couldnae see it for lookin. Ah’ll need it tae finish ma mural.’

  ‘Oh, aye – Anne Marie was tellin me aboot it. Is she no back yet?’

  ‘She phoned ten minutes ago tae say she was stayin for her tea, she’ll be back aboot hauf-seven.’

  ‘Does she want me tae pick her up?’

  ‘Didnae say.’ He stood up. ‘Want a cuppa tea when ah’m through in the kitchen? You’re lookin a bit … hingy.’

  ‘Ah’m tired, Jimmy.’

  ‘Ah’ll put the kettle on.’

  Ah got the paint and put it on the coffee table. There was a catalogue sittin oot. Maternity claes and baby stuff. Ah shoved it it on the shelf underneath.

  He came back wi two mugs and a packet of chocolate digestives.

  ‘Thanks.’

  He sat doon on the settee beside me. ‘Liz, are you OK? You look … you just don’t look well.’

  Ah turned tae look at him. Ah’d no really done that properly for a long time. His hair was damp, pushed away fae his face and there was a faint scent of chlorine aff his skin. He’d been gaun tae the baths maist days since he’d been stayin at the Centre. His face loooked thinner, mair lined, but his eyes looked clearer, younger; Anne Marie’s eyes. Every time ah looked in the mirror these days ah thought ma eyes looked aulder.

  ‘Ah went tae the hospital the day.’

  He set his tea doon, put his airm round me. The smell of chlorine was stronger and it was that strange tae be close tae him, he felt that different fae David, that solid.

  ‘Liz …’

  ‘It’s OK, ah’m no ill, it’s no …’

  ‘Whit?’

  ‘Ah’m pregnant.’

  His airm stayed where it was but felt heavy on ma shoulder, like a bit of wood. Ah kept ma eyes on the mantelpiece, where the haunds on the clock moved round; five, ten, fifteen, twenty seconds. It was about an inch off centre and ah wanted tae get up and move it.

  ‘Whose is it?’

  Each word came oot as if it was by itsel.

  ‘David. This guy ah’ve been seein.’

  Jimmy moved his airm, turned tae look at me. ‘But you never said a word aboot him.’

  ‘Naw, ah know. Ah meant to …’

  ‘But …’

  ‘When … did it happen? When have you been seein him?’

  ‘Friday nights, mostly.’

  ‘When ah was here wi Anne Marie?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘How long has it been gaun on?’

  ‘Coupla month. It must of happened right at the start.’

  ‘Christ.’

  ‘Jimmy, ah’m sorry … ah …’

  He stood up. ‘Liz, ah cannae talk right noo. Ah need tae get oot of here, OK?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Ah’ll talk tae you the morra, right?’ He took a few steps towards the door, backin away, still facin me.

  ‘Right. Jimmy … don’t say anythin tae Anne Marie the now, OK?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Or anybody else. Please. No the now.’

  ‘Ah’ll no.’

  He opened the livin-room door.

  ‘Jimmy.’ Ah lifted the tin of paint and held it oot tae him. ‘Don’t forget this.’

  He took it oot ma haund, stuck it in the pocket of his jaicket. ‘Thanks.’

  Jimmy

  IT WAS QUIET when ah got back tae the Centre. Nae lights on except the wan in the hall, just enough light tae stop you fallin over. Ah shut the door, quietly. Beginnin tae be habit, this, bein quiet. Used tae bang doors behind me, dump ma stuff in the hall, shout ‘that’s me hame.’ Hame. A mattress on the flair in a corner of the prayer room. The prayer room. Ma mural. Ma project. Ma process. The mindfulness of. Breathin. Comin harder and faster noo. Hurtin ma chest. The room dark, shafts a light dart in fae the street, lightin up the shape of the Buddha on the wall opposite. Every night, lyin in ma bed, watchin the Buddha on the wall, watchin him take shape, bit by bit, every night a wee bit mair. The detail: his eyes, closed in meditation, his haunds – ah was that proud of his haunds, thought ah’d really managed tae get them right. And every day the Rinpoche comin in and lookin, noticin the new wee bits, smilin, pattin me on the shoulder. It had been enough praise just for him tae smile at me wi that smile. Every day, thinkin ah was gettin clearer and clearer, ah knew whit ah was supposed tae be daein. Given up unnerstaundin whit was supposed tae happen, whit it was all aboot, trustin that if ah kept daein ma wee bit, daein ma stuff, then it would all work oot for the best. For us aw.

  A wean. No ma wean. Inside her.

  A life.

  Ah used tae have a life. Never thought aboot it tae ah met the Rinpoche. Just got up in the mornin and got on wi it. Work. Hame. Anne Marie. Liz. The stuff. Then when ah got deeper intae the meditatin and searchin and aw that, ah thought ah was gettin clear, unnerstaundin it mair, but at the bottom somewhere ah suppose ah always thought that wanst ah’d found whitever it was ah was lookin fur, well, ah’d just go back tae ma life, except it would be better cos ah’d be clear aboot it, unnerstaund. Aboot ma life. Aboot life.

  But noo there’s a new life. Growin inside Liz. And it’s got nothin tae dae wi me.

  And ah’m sittin on ma erse on a mattress, watchin the Buddha, tryin tae make sense of this wan. The colours changin in the flickerin light, red turnt tae purple, eyes yella, the smile on his face a smirk. Fuck you, Jimmy. Thought you were so fuckin smart, didn’t you? Unlockin the secret of the universe. Then ah feel the energy risin up – the chakras openin, it says in the books – fae ma balls, fae ma erse, heat risin through the centre of ma body. Heat, ma face flushin and ma haunds movin and ah don’t think, ah just feel the heat crashin round ma brain, the colours flashin inside ma heid like a lightnin storm. And ah’m in the corner of the room, prizin open the tins a paint and ah lift the first wan up and ah chuck it, watch the red hit the wall and run down in slow motion, big dauds splatterin the Buddha, coverin his face and part of his robes. Then the yella efter it, mixin wi the red, makin orange streaks, runnin doon intae puddles on the flair under it. And ah cannae move fast enough noo, liftin tin efter tin; blue, purple, green, each wan coverin mair and mair of the wall, the colour muddier and messier and filthier tae there’s only a wee tin of gold left – just a wee tin for daein the detail at the end, and when ah lift it the hale tin flees oot ma haund, thumps agin the wall, crashin intae the plaster above the Buddha’s eye, reboundin across the room tae the opposite corner, where it rolls on its side, forward and back, forward and back, tae it stops, restin in a groove in the floorboards.

  Liz

  ABOOT NINE O’CLOCK the phone rang.

  ‘Liz?’

  ‘David.’

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘OK. Tired.’

  ‘Liz, ah really think we should talk again.’

  Ah was sick of talkin. What was there tae say?

  ‘You there? Liz, are you on holiday the morra?’

  ‘Aye, Queen’s birthday, God bless her.’

  ‘D’you want tae go somewhere, get oot the city?’

  ‘Suppose so. Where?’

  ‘Don’t know. If you don’t feel like drivin we could go on the train. Go tae Largs or Helensburgh or somewhere.’

  ‘It’d be good tae get some air.’

  ‘Ah’ll meet you in Central Station at twelve … under the clock.’

  Anne Marie stuck her heid round the door and pulled the earphones away fae her heid. ‘Is that Nisha?’

  ‘Naw. You seein her the morra?’

  ‘Aye, ah’m gaun round for her in the efternoon. We’re nearly finished this demo … just have tae put the finishin touches on it.’

  She disappeared back intae her bedroo
m. When all this was sorted, when ah knew what ah was daein, ah’d need tae spend mair time wi Anne Marie, payin attention tae her interests.

  But how the hell was ah gonnae dae that? Ah’d need tae tell her aboot the baby soon, whatever happened between me and David, and God knows how she’d react tae that.

  It was roastin, but there was a wee breeze fae the sea, fresh and cool round your face. We walked alang the front and he took ma haund. Ah’d never walked doon the street haund in haund wi him afore; at hame ah was always too worried in case somebody seen us.

  At first we never spoke, just walked, slowly, watchin the clouds flee across the sky and the weans playin on the beach.

  ‘We used tae come here when ah was wee,’ he said. ‘Did you?’

  ‘A couple of times. Maistly Saltcoats though. When ma daddy was workin we’d have a holiday every summer. Then he got sick and the holidays stopped.’

  ‘When was that?’

  ‘When ah was aboot ten … he died when ah was fifteen.’

  ‘You never really talk aboot him.’

  ‘Ah know. Suppose it’s because of ma mammy. She never really talked aboot him. It’s only the last few month afore she died, when she was no well hersel, that she even mentioned him.’

  ‘That was the way then.’

  ‘Ah think it was the only way she could cope. It was hard for her – when he got ill and wasnae workin she had tae get wee cleanin jobs – there was nae money. Of course we didnae unnerstaund.’

  ‘Too young.’

  ‘It was the free meals ah hated – felt that humiliated when the teacher gied they tickets oot on a Monday mornin. Ah tellt Mammy ah didnae want tae take them but she said ah had tae. Ah was that mad at her – couldnae unnerstaund how hard it was for her, tryin tae make ends meet.’

  We’d walked quite far alang the front, where it was quieter, and we sat doon on a bench. The beach was a bit stonier here and there were less weans.