A Bit of a Domestic 6

The spicy magic of freshly cooked chilli con carne snaked upstairs and grabbed me and Johnboy just before Janet’s voice signalled dinner wiz ready. Tugging us by the nose and pulling at the knots in our otherwise empty stomachs, the smell led us tae the kitchen. Janet had covered the small dining table with a red and white gingham tablecloth. Her best dinner set graced the scene, as did her smile as she piled mince on a base of fluffy basmati rice.

“I was wondering,” said Janet, turning to greet us and pointing towards a bottle of Chateau de Sours Rose. “Now I know you and John aren’t usually wine drinkers but I’ve a reason to celebrate tonight. I hoped you’d both join me, just this once. Anyway, to cut a long story short, if you’ll pardon the pun, one of my poems is going to be published. I sent a selection to a small publisher several months ago after Elizabeth and a few others at the Guild read my work and encouraged me to take it further. I never dreamed of being accepted. Who would’ve thought?”

This came as a bit of a double shock. Janet hadn’t taken a drink since long before her husband, Stewart, died in the nineties. Alcohol wiznae allowed in the house, except maybe at Hogmanay in case any first-footers turned up. And poetry? Who writes poetry in this age? Ah put the face on. “Of course I’ll join you in a toast, Janet. That’s brilliant news. Isn’t that fantastic, John?”

“Poems?” Johnboy asked, not even attempting tae hide his smirk. “Like Pam Ayres? When did you start writing poems?”

A chameleon being chased by a hungry monkey couldnae have changed colour quicker, but there wiz nae camouflaging Janet’s anxiety as her hands shook trying tae pour the glasses of wine. “I’ve been writing poems since school, John. I just never showed them to anyone until recently.”

“Can we see the one that’s being published?” Ah asked. “You must be so proud.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing on that new computer of yours?” Johnboy asked.

“Yes it is, John. I’ve joined an online writing community. They’re all very nice, helpful people.”

“In fact, rather than see your work, Janet,” Ah said, taking the seat facing the door. “Would you be so kind as to read it aloud after dinner?”

Her cheeks deepened past the proverbial scarlet towards a blood-pressure-concerning crimson. “Oh, I don’t know, John. I’ve never done anything like that before, apart from reading a couple of small ones at the Guild, of course, but that’s different.”

She wiz experiencing quite a rush so Ah tried tae prolong it for her. “Poetry is more than words on a page, Janet. It is an art form that comes alive when performed. Breathe life into your work today. Go on. I know you’ll do you and your work proud.

Johnboy gave me a ‘have you lost the plot’ look but between forkfuls of dinner came round tae the idea. “Aye, go on, mum. Let’s hear it…after dinner. This chilli’s brand new, by the way. You’d never know the mince is past its use-by date.”

Janet shuffled in her chair and swallowed a mouthful of Chateau de Sours Rose. “It was a best before date, John. They’re not the same. Anyway, top-up lads? I think this wine is going to my head.”

The main course wiz followed by a delightful slice of home-made banana cake laced wae a hint of cinnamon and honey. Coffee wiz held back as we savoured Janet’s celebratory Rose. Once no more dessert could be coaxed onto my spoon Ah refrained from licking the plate clean and tapped ma wine glass. “I believe the floor is yours, Janet.”

Ah couldnae take my eyes off her as she gathered her thoughts and took a deep breath. Here wiz this woman, who’d always been a constant rock of stability towering over us with maturity, wisdom and common sense, shaking like a wee lassie about tae piss her pants, all because of a stupid poem.

She emptied her glass and stood up, banging her knee against the underside of the table. “I’ve never read this to anyone before, but I have practiced reading it in front of the mirror. I hope you like it. It’s called Seasons of Remembrance. It’s about…oh…what does it matter…you’ll see…hopefully.

Early frost grips tight on Autumn's dying days,
time-travelling clocks blacken evening’s gaze.
It's a time for comforting saints and souls,
and reappraising costly short-term goals.

What became of Spring's finest hours,
among the dancing, smiling flowers?
Were all her victory floats displayed
in Summer's fleeting street parade?

Sipping nectar from holy grails,
and floating high o'er all our vales,
lost angels of a long past war
remind us all what we abhor.

Flanders,
Somme,
hope and glory,
empire gone,
different story.

Boys praying God will take them soon,
straining ears for the piper's tune.
In thunder, lightning, pouring rain,
when will we see their like again?

This cycle continues unabated
in another war that's much berated.
So pray for Winter's frost to thaw
in a Holy land without God's law.”

Janet sat back down. Wae trembling hands she poured the last drops of Rose fae the bottle, fighting a losing battle tae keep the smile aff her face. The couple of glasses of wine might have hit the spot, but it wiz the heady mix of anxiety, excitement, joy and relief that had her soaring high on naturally produced dopamine. Ah got a small personal pleasure watching her being so alive, but those feelings didnae last, replaced wae envy at having tae pay tae feel anywhere near like she did now. If Ah could get that feeling fur free Ah wouldnae need drugs, and seeing someone so out their face just made me want a line.

“Well, what do you think?” she asked.

It certainly sounded a fine piece of poetry. Not that Ah knew anything about poetry. And neither did Johnboy. Between us we might have wrote a couple of Valentine verses at school in the hope of getting a lumber and smelly finger behind the bike shed, but other than that we were poetically poverty stricken. Janet’s words were wasted on us. We sat speechless fur whit seemed an age, but the second hand of the clock on the wall behind Janet’s head jerked on as if restrained by time itself and proved only a few moments had passed.

Ah quelled the urge tae talk more shite, about how wonderful her words were and how the underlying message was something we should all listen to, and kicked Johnboy under the table instead. Having spent most of his life living with Janet in ignorance of her dreams Ah felt it wiz turn tae say something first. By the way his jaw hung open Ah guessed he saw her differently now, and she wasn’t just the woman that did his washing and kept him fed. Ah felt privileged tae be part of the awakening but wished tae fuck they would hurry up.

“That’s fucking brilliant, mum.”

“John! Language.”

“Fuck…sorry…it’s brilliant…fucking brilliant.”

She stared intae his widened blue eyes that were threatening to fill as if she wanted to dive right in. “Thank you,” she said, choking up and wiping the solitary tear edging its way down her cheek.

Johnboy got up fae his chair, walked round the table and gave his mum a hug. Ah nearly fell off ma seat. Ah’d ever seen him touch his mum never mind hug her. The chilli had been hot and the atmosphere warm, but as Ah watched the loving embrace Ah thought of ma own mum sitting alone night after night and a chill cut through me like a knife in ma back.

“Are you alright there, Daniel?” Janet asked. “You look miles away.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, Janet. I feel honoured to be deemed worthy of this moment. Ah wiz just thinking about how you’ve always been like a second mother to me. You provided a lot of academic and emotional support during my time at university and kept me going whenever I had doubts about sticking with it to the end. You were always spot on with your predictions about how anything was possible if we were prepared to work hard enough to achieve my goals. And now here you are proving to yourself, and showing the world, that it doesn’t matter what age you are, dreams are there for the taking. I’m really proud of you.”

“Thank you very much, Daniel. We all have dreams, and we must never give up on them, no matter how many setbacks or obstacles hinder our paths. What’s yours?”

Ah thought of telling her whit Ah really wanted wiz having a normal family wae weans running around shouting, ‘Daddy, daddy!’ and watching them grow intae whatever they wanted tae be, and how Ah’d often imagined them under the Christmas tree opening presents, every surprise better than the last. But the most dominant thought recently wiz of Sammy and Jake working fur me. Ah knew there wiz an opportunity fur someone wae half a brain tae step in and make a lot of money. They both shared a preference fur violence rather than reason, but if Ah showed them whit could be achieved wae a bit of sound business practice they’d be right behind me. One thing Ah’d learned wiz - it’s always about the money. But Ah couldnae tell Janet that.

“Good question, Janet. I’d like to help change the lives of those who live in poverty in this country; no job, no hope, nothing to do but get drunk or high and take their frustrations out on those closest, whether it girlfriends, wives or weans. Some of them don’t know any better. That’s the only life they’ve ever known. I can’t stand domestic abuse in any form. Education is what these people need. Lots of them can’t even read or write never mind deal with emotional intelligence. Of course, there are many others in affluent areas who also think it’s alright to life their hands in anger. Many of these have no excuse and really should know better. I’d like a career that helps people help themselves rather than help corporate Charlies earn a few more bucks.

Janet composed herself. “That’s worthy goals you have there, Daniel, but what are you going to do to get you there?”

“I’m not sure, Janet. As you know, I’m at another crossroads in life. Now is the time to evaluate how I got where I am and then plan my direction for the future. At least I now know there’s no time limit to achieving whatever path I choose. It just has to be the right one.”

Johnboy placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Whatever you decide, I’ll be there for you.”

Touching his mum and me on the same night? Ah wiz seeing a side of Johnboy Ah’d never seen before, and wiznae sure Ah’d like tae see again. Ah gave him the falsest smile Ah could muster. “Aw, that’s nice. And I’ll be there for you too, John. You know I’ll always have your back. You’re like a brother to me.”

“I’ll get those coffees now,” said Janet. “Think I might have it black; sober me up a bit.”

As Janet filled the kettle and sorted the cups, Ah mimed tae Johnboy fur us tae head back upstairs. He shook his head and signalled back tae hold tight. Tae push ma case further Ah pretended tae snort a line off the tablecloth but he kicked me under the table before Ah finished it. Ma last resort of giving him ma saddest puppy-eyes stare, complete wae lop-sided head, brought nothing more than a finger-wagging. Ah resigned myself tae having our after-dinner coffee downstairs.

Just as Janet turned around tae ask something ma phone vibrated intae life, causing me tae jump and hurry out tae the hall before answering in as calm a manner as possible. “Awright Jake. How’s you? Whit can Ah dae fur ye?”

“Never mind the shite. Get yir arse up tae Sammy’s th-night at nine o’clock sharp. And bring yir wee pal wae ye.”

“Whit wee pal?”

“Ah don’t know whit his name is; the wan fae the shipyard. Just be there at nine.”

“Whit’s he got…”

Jake quit the call before Ah could finish, but Ah stood still holding the phone tae ma ear fur another few seconds before realising Ah wiz being eyeballed. A black and white photograph of Johnboy’s granddad, dressed in full military uniform fae his time in the Korean War, glared through me like an angry Lord Kitchener. Ah blinked first.

“That’s your coffee ready, Daniel,” said Janet, popping her head out the kitchen and interrupting her note-perfect humming rendition of We’ll Meet Again.

Ah glanced back at granddad before shuffling intae the kitchen, trying tae block out the left-right left-right marching orders fae Jake. “Mmm, smells great, Janet. Is that Columbian? You could make a fortune punting that.”