James Kelman - Mo said she was quirky

Oh God, if it was Brian, why had he come to London? To disappear. People disappear. But Liverpool was a place, that was where he was, you disappeared there too, why would he come here?

There was no more to see in the photographs. A lanky boy, and quiet. What was she looking for? If he was unaggressive. That was like a criticism. Except he was. To the point of timidity. Quite meek really. Although that wasnt in the photographs. There wasnt much there at all, not if you searched and it was Brian you searched for. Quite a few of Mum and Dad and Helen herself, but Brian was like a shadowy figure, not hiding but not there either, like he hadnt connected properly with the camera or was keeping out the way. Trying not to be seen. But that was silliness. And wrong, that was so so wrong. Very very wrong. Like seeking ways not to help.

Helen was not doing that, she really wasnt. If she could help she would help. Of course she would if it was Brian; she wanted to help him and she would help him. If it was him she would. She just needed to know, if it was him.

And she didnt. It was so so — what? She couldnt even think. She had gone over and over and over it all, every last detail, again and again and again until her head was numb, and her brains, if she had any left. If there was something, she didnt know it. She didnt. It might have been him and it might not have been him. It was like watching a taped movie and you get interrupted by somebody and miss something important, so you have to rewind. Helen had to rewind. No she didnt. The whole day long my God rewinding, what else had she been doing? replaying and replaying, replaying or rewinding, doing both.

To find it . To find it .

The truth of it. She needed to. And she couldnt. Really, she couldnt. Even had she ‘rewound’ to the moment of recognition she could not do more than she had at the moment itself. A rewound moment is not the actual moment. That is a moment in time. She could only think about things and these things were in the past. The only way to find out if the man she had seen was her brother was to see him again, she had to see him, the same man. She had to, to be seeing him. That was the

Oh well.

Helen stopped what she was doing, although she smiled. Actually she felt quite — strange. It was like a — what? a decision. She had made a decision, she knew she had, a massive one, although that was silly, saying that, like it was a sort of

But it was a major thing like it was just so so — it was life-changing. She would have to see him, the tall skinny guy; she would.

Goodness, it was true. Oh well.

She glanced at the clock. Sophie was engrossed. She followed the stories now. Good. Children develop, their mind.

Goodness.

Helen felt quite weird really but okay too like she was just like — okay, really.

This was a moment she did not break and did not want to break. She sat by Sophie and gazed at the television. Soon Azizah had arrived and Helen was in the front room. When she opened the front door for the girl she was already pulling on her coat and ready to leave; she had been getting ready, so now she was, or nearly; everything she was doing she was still doing like still having to do. She didnt need to do anything more, only what she always did, same clothes same everything, same going to work. Not the same going to work. This was not the same . What was ‘same’?

Relax and consider, take a moment. These thoughts were important, so not to rush them either. It was important not to. Helen felt this strongly: and not worry about time. She had plenty time, she allowed this for the journey to work. Helen could miss two trains and like manage in on the third; she could. It was completely fine.

Yes Azizah had arrived, she was in the front room with Sophie. Sophie didnt look at her. Poor Azizah. But it was hurtful. Helen would have felt it. Children are the tough ones. They learn not to be, not to be too tough. Helen had to and so do they all, including Sophie.

Bag, money, travel-cards; keys, wallet, no phone, brolly. That was her, ready to leave and set to leave, now in the hallway, crouching to pull on her boots. It was sad nevertheless, but true. What else to consider? Nothing really. Azizah was a great girl. Helen trusted her with Sophie. She was nothing like Helen. A completely different personality. Her books and her books and her books! She had a definite strength about her and Helen lacked that, she did. She was just a different kind of person. That was that. It didnt make her any the less. People are different.

Sophie relaxed with Azizah. She did. Wouldnt it have been nice if she relaxed with her own mother! Oh but of course she did. What a silly thing to say! Foolishness. Mrs Foolish, Mrs Fool. She was a fool; this is what she was. Mo said she was quirky but it was more than quirky.

She had her coat on, her boots on, bag, money, travel-cards; her hand on the outside door handle. That’s me going! she called, then waited.

Mummy! Sophie came rushing to her. Mummy! she reached her arms round Helen.

A big cuddle, said Helen and winked to Azizah: She’s to be in bed by nine o’clock at the very very very very latest.

Yes, said Azizah.

Helen smiled. Sophie stepped back staring at her, then the blink. Oh Sophie, you’re not going to start crying?

Well you always go.

Yes but it’s work, I have to go to work!

Why?

To earn money.

Yes but Mummy

So we can eat food and pay for things.

Sophie stared at her.

Oh honey! Helen leaned to kiss her. Azizah smiled in the background. A good girl, a nice girl. Helen wanted to say something, pass on to Mo, a message, because it was Mo, if she had told him about Brian. Why didnt she? She should have. She hadnt told Mo because she knew what he would say. I’ll see you in the morning, she said to Sophie.

Oh Mum. Sophie smiled.

That’s better. Helen saw that Azizah had taken Sophie’s hand and she winked to Azizah while opening the door. She waved: Byyeeee, and stepped outside, closing the door behind her, and she called: Love you.

Sophie answered: Love you Mummy.

Then Helen was downstairs and out onto the pavement. It was raining. When had it started? Helen had looked earlier and it was dry. Anyway, the brolly was in the bag.

The old settee was still lying on the pavement near her house. Caroline and Jill would have noticed it this morning. How could they miss the damn thing? It had been there for three days and was saturated and horrible. Her street was an embarrassment. The old fridge there too, with the door hanging off my God. People just dumped things. They said it was for poor people, asylum-seekers or like whoever, just leave your old furniture. People who need it will come and take it. But that was an excuse. Sometimes it was true but not always. Who would have taken that settee?

Except like a homeless person. But where would they take it to? if there was no place, if they had no place, not if they were homeless. That was homeless, you had no place, just like here there and everywhere, you just wandered.

Sophie was at the window, waving. She was up on a chair. Azizah wasnt to be seen but must have been behind her. She must have been, making sure Sophie didnt fall. But it was true, children got excited and if she fell it would have been through the window. She didnt need to stand on a chair. She just did it because — why did she do it? Because she did.

And old fridges either. Who would take them? Nobody. They were useless. You would have to be daft. People were not daft, they just were from other countries. They had nothing. That was life, it was so unfair, really. Not always but often. Some had millions others had nothing.

She passed the fast-food kebab shop towards the corner of the street. It was busy. Evening trade. People did use it. Mo said the owners should have been arrested for serving gravy under false pretences but he was a food-snob. They served their ‘specialty gravy’ with chips. Children liked it. Why not? Once in a while. Nothing wrong with that.