The Other Times .5

Mum starts on me the second I get indoors.

Jason, what have I told you about bringing cats home?

I haven’t.

I’m not deaf, Jay. I can hear it meowing. And don’t lock the bedroom door so I can’t get in. That’s your brother’s tricks all over. Now put it back where you found it.

Mum.

Out… And stop bringing animals in off the street. They don’t belong to you.

But this ain’t like that.

Don’t keep making me repeat myself.

Fake dad comes into the hallway from the livin room, where he’s watching TV, drinking beer and smokin his stinking joints. Do what your mother says.

I wanna smash Liam’s face in. He makes mum worse.

I can’t stand cats, he says.

Cos you’re a fucken retard.

He lunges at me, ready to give me one of his slaps. I cover my head but mum jumps in for once and shouts, No you don’t, holding a hand to shield me. You’re not hitting him, she yells, breathing heavy. Now pack it in the pair of you.

The mouth on this little prick.

Liam, go in the lounge. I’m dealing with it.

He looks at her like he’s going to give her slaps too. It’s what he does. He raises his hand, making her flinch.  

Don’t you fucken do it or I swear I’ll knife you.

He stops himself. I dare you to try it, he says to her, givin me evils. He walks like a hardman into the livin room, shouting, Bring me a can.  

She waits a few seconds and then whispers, You fucken retard. I realise she’s saying it to him, not me, and I have this feeling but it’s not the regular kind of darkness. This whoosh of twistin is different cos I have this sense of being close to mum. Like she’s really here with me and I want her to cuddle me like she did when I was little.

We can’t go on like this, she says quietly, as if she’s been witness to a truth.

Mum, I say, the kitten isn’t anyone’s.  

Where’d you find it?

It’s not like the others. This one was thrown away.

She looks at me and touches my face. So, we’re not gunna get someone knocking on our door askin for their cat back?

No.

She hasn’t been like this with me since Mike went away.

But we can’t have a bloody cat in here, Jay. It’s chaos as it is.

Mum, I’ll look after her.

She looks at me and says, You promise it doesn’t belong to someone?

It was cryin in a bin.

Let’s see the bloody thing.  

We go to the kitchen first and she grabs a can for herself from the fridge. This hangover is going to do me in, she says. I look at the kitchen with the tops crowded with empty bottles and cans, sticky plates, knives, forks and make-do ashtrays. A cork floats on dirty water in the plastic tub in the sink like a toy boat. Big fat flies are having a party. Liam shouts at her from the lounge for his beer. She flicks him the finger through the walls, which makes me laugh. I flick my finger too and she pushes it down, tellin me not to, but she’s laughing.

We walk along the hallway. I unlock my bedroom door and Tracey comes running. I pick her up, pink mouthed and meowing, and I show her to mum, who is smilin, cos that’s what cats make you do.

I promise I’ll look after her.

Jay, we can’t have a cat.  

Go on.

You are gorgeous, she says to Tracey.

Please.

She does the longest sigh.

I will look after her.  

Alright, alright, she says.

Thanks mum, I say, and I hug her.

You’re a pain in the bum, Jay, she says, pushing me off cos mum doesn’t really do cuddles now I’m older. What’s her name? she asks.

I can’t tell her Tracey Clarke as mum hates the real one on the estate.

She takes the kitten from me and says, Don’t you even have a name? What can we call you?

I try to think.

What about Flapjack? she says.

Yeah, that’s a good one. I make the sign of the cross over her and say in a priest’s voice, I hereby name you Flapjack.

Mum looks at me and pulls a face at my baptism. You’ve always been an odd boy, you know that, Jay? she says, kissin Flapjack on the head and passing her to me.  

I hear the TV get louder.

Mum lights a fag. It makes me want a smoke, but I know I’ll be pushin my luck if I ask her.  

He’s the prick who needs to be in a bin, she says, staring at the wall through to the livin room where Liam is sitting. I’ll deal with him. This place is in my name, not his.

It’s then that I notice the greeny-yellow bruise on the side of mum’s face, around her cheekbone. I go to ask her what happened, but I already know. It’s what Liam does to her when they’re off of their heads and rowing like they were last night after their stupid friends left.

Are you excited about seeing Mike at the weekend? she says, sitting on the bed, using an empty can of Dr Pepper as an ashtray.  

Yeah, I say, cept I’m not because the prison he’s in freaks me out.  

She tells me that she is too, watching Flapjack chase my hand across the carpet. She swigs lager and says, When Mike’s out, he can come back and live with us. We can make a fresh start – the three of us together. I’m going to get this place tidied up and clean. I won’t drink either. Not as much anyway. I know how it upsets the both of you. It’s just that, oh, I don’t know… It is going to be better for us… I know what I need to do. I’ve been thinking about making changes for so long and I’ve reached a point where they have to start happening.

She drinks more of the lager. You do believe me, don’t you, Jay?

Course.

Mum swears life will be different after my brother comes back home. She talks about these family Sundays sat at the table, eating crispy potatoes, roast beef, Yorkshire puddings and cauliflower cheese. Her voice changes as she remembers the homemade gravy her mother used to make. I mean, gran ran off when mum was fifteen, so how special was that gravy? These roast dinners will never happen. They’re mum’s way of dreamin out loud.

She kneels on the floor with me, getting Flapjack to jump at the tassels on her hoody.

I don’t believe a lot of what she’s sayin, the promises she’s making, but this is the mum that I can play with and have jokes.

It’s the version I miss the most during the other times.