Gavin Smith - The Age of Scorpio

Maude was moaning in her sleep. Uday tried to calm himself, stroking her hair as she settled down.

‘Nobody?’

‘Oh there were some, the understanding ones, as if they knew. Sometimes I think they were the worst. Every sympathetic look a reminder. I know we’re all supposed to talk about our feelings, but sometimes you just want to forget about your mistakes and move on. And let’s be honest, she’s fragile, arguably too easily led, but she is an adult and has to take responsibility for her actions as well.’

Beth tried to imagine what it had been like for them. They had clearly developed something of a siege mentality. In her mind’s eye she could see Maude in tears while Uday verbally went for some bitchy girl or sleazy guy who’d upset her.

‘They don’t give you a chance, you know? You fall down, make a mistake – suddenly you’re public property and everyone wants their pound of flesh.’ Tears were rolling down his cheeks now. Beth said nothing. There was nothing to say for now; he just needed to get this out.

‘That was Talia for you,’ Beth finally said after a long silence. Uday looked over at her. ‘She was like a virus. Everything she touched got infected.’ Beth reached for what she was trying to say, trying to give words to a half-formed thought. ‘I think the more people she hurt, the more she thought it meant that she mattered…’ She wasn’t sure she had managed to get across what she was thinking, but Uday was nodding. More silence. The pair of them lost in their own thoughts.

‘I’m going to have to tell my father that his only daughter is dead,’ Beth said. It was self-pity. She knew it was self-pity. It was also true. Uday just looked at her. The silence drew out awkwardly. Beth looked down at the threadbare carpet.

‘I know it probably won’t seem like it sometimes,’ he finally said, ‘but your parents don’t hate you. They probably just do the best they can with what they know.’

‘Parent,’ Beth said. ‘My mum died when we were both young. What about your parents?’

‘What about them?’

‘What do they think?’

‘About what?’ Uday asked innocently. Beth got embarrassed and was not sure what to say. ‘What, because I’m Asian and a fag?’ Uday started laughing. ‘I’m just playing. Mother is in major denial, keeps on trying to introduce me to nice girls. Father’s also in denial. I think he’d rather I meet some less nice girls; I suspect he prays that I’m sleeping with Maude.’ Uday looked down at Maude, still asleep and looking peaceful. ‘Brother and sister are supportive. The problem’s cousins and some aunts and uncles.’ Uday looked away, but Beth saw the darkness creep over his face. She recognised the sign of old pain.

Maude stretched and opened her eyes, looked up at Uday.

‘I fell asleep,’ she said drowsily.

‘On the sofa again,’ Uday agreed.

‘I need bed.’

Uday nodded.

‘Tomorrow we go to the pub and we can pretend we’re normal, as unpleasant as that sounds,’ Uday said. Maude smiled and nodded. She stood up and stretched dramatically before giving Beth a kiss on the top of her head.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said sympathetically.

No, I’m sorry , Beth thought, for what my family helped do to you , but she just nodded.

Beth wondered if it was as simple as pretending that you were just like everyone else for long enough that you eventually became so. She sat on the sea wall just outside the amusements, looking out at the water towards the Isle of Wight. To her left along the front was some kind of tower, beyond that was Old Town and then Gosport. It was ridiculous how exotic Portsmouth felt to her, but then she’d never really been anywhere except Bradford and prison. Well, Leeds as well, she supposed.

It was a cloudless day, bright blue sky but fresh and windy. She had her leather zipped up tight, her hat pulled down over her ears. She took another sip from the mug of hot sweet tea.

This would be okay, this would be enough , she thought. Time for a change. She wanted to get away from Bradford and live by the sea. Stay away from the clubs, the bouncing and all the violence. Live in a place where not everyone knew you and your business.

The work was menial and repetitive but that didn’t matter. When she was finished she could see a clean floor, or an oiled ride, or a happy punter, well more or less, and could measure what she’d done.

She would have to go back and tell her dad face to face what had happened first. It would devastate him and he already needed care, but he had made his choice. He had made it clear that he didn’t want her around, that he blamed her for something, though she’d never known what.

She heard his huffing breath as he shuffled towards her a long time before he said anything.

‘I’m not paying you to eye up the Isle of Wight,’ Ted said sternly.

‘I’ve done all the floors in the arcade and the caff before it opened. I helped Jimmy with the ghost train and I’ve worked the tombola all morning. I was just having a quick tea break.’ When she turned around, however, Ted was smiling.

‘I know. I know when people work and when they slack. I know everything. It’s the rides themselves – they talk to me. I’m like a fairground shaman,’ he said. Beth was smiling, trying not to laugh and shaking her head.

‘You’re so full of shit.’

It was Ted’s turn to laugh. With difficulty he manoeuvred himself onto the sea wall and offered her a cigarette. She was about to take one when she realised that she didn’t smoke and didn’t need them to buy stuff and trade for favours any more.

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The sea,’ he said.

‘Isn’t that the Solent?’

‘Have I ever told you about my time in the merchant marine?’

‘It’s my first day,’ Beth protested. Ted’s chuckle was a rasping wet noise that threatened to become a cough. ‘You shouldn’t smoke so much.’ Or eat all the shit you obviously do . He had the look of someone who had a full English breakfast every day of the week.

‘This is what a real man looks like,’ Ted said, slapping his belly. It was avoidance but Beth had to grin. ‘I heard you had some trouble this morning?’

‘Just some kids trying to tip one of the machines.’

‘Little shits.’

‘Nah, I was worse when I was their age. Just bored and skint. I don’t like those tracksuits they all wear though.’

When she looked back up she saw that Ted was studying her intently. Beth wasn’t sure why. Ted had worked the amusements for many years. When punters came to the stalls he had learned how to read them. He knew people. Beth didn’t realise it, but how she responded to kids was a test. She didn’t hate them or resent them, she just saw them for what they were.

‘Lot of people try hard their first day, their first week, their first month and then slack off.’

Beth shrugged. ‘You don’t think I’m working hard enough, just fire me.’

‘You keep this up you can stay as long as you like,’ Ted told her and pulled out his wallet. He took a fifty out of it. Beth started to protest. ‘I told you I won’t have desperate people working for me. It comes out of your pay, but it’ll tide you over until the end of the week. Understand?’

‘Thanks.’ She finished her tea and Ted watched her head back towards the amusements.

He hung in the murk, the particulate matter floating all around. He could not imagine how once he had thought that this was not a good place to come. He did not feel the coldness now. He did not care about the lack of visibility. He did not need to see her to know that she was there. He could hear her sleeping song calling to her lost daughter somewhere in the city he and the others had forsaken. Lost for generations but so close.