A drool of saliva stuck me to the arm of the couch. Sweat lashed off my body. I ached all over. ‘Christ, where am I?’
For a moment I thought I replayed the heady, early stages of alcoholism. Days when I greeted every morning in strange new surroundings. But I knew I was past those now. It takes a serious effort to negotiate a kip for the night. My times at the bar had long since been devoted to more serious matters.
I stood up, tried to straighten my back. Hunched over like Yoda, I said, ‘Soon will I rest. Yes, for ever sleep. Earned it I have.’
I realised where I was. Recognised the wooden star clock above the fireplace. Red bulbs twirled behind the black plastic coals, someone had been in to turn on the fire.
I looked around. Felt shocked to find myself here, facing a trophy cabinet full of my father’s sporting achievements. When I was a kid, my friends would come around to stare at them for what seemed like hours. It gave me bags of kudos on the street. They didn’t know the real cost of those trophies.
I heard movement in the kitchen. Plates and cups being laid out on the table. When I went in, my mother stood at the stove stirring some porridge. A vast pot bubbled away.
‘Oh, you’re awake, son.’
‘Good morning, Mam.’
‘Did you sleep okay?’
‘Yeah, I slept just fine,’ I lied. ‘Bit stiff, but got a few hours, you know.’
‘Can’t be too comfy on that couch. You should have went up to your bed… Tea?’
‘Eh, no. Have you any coffee?’
‘Sorry, son. Nobody drinks it since you went. I could nip next door. What time is it?’
I looked at my watch. ‘Just after nine.’
‘Aye, that’s early enough, Dot will be up and about. Hang on, I’ll get some coffee next door.’
‘No, Mam, there’s no need. I’ll take whatever’s going.’
‘Och, no. Sit yourself down, son.’ She beamed, looked delighted to have me home. It seemed to be a real treat for her. She acted like an excited child.
I asked myself how I could ever have denied her this.
As my mother put on a headscarf to nip out the back door she said, ‘Will you go in and see your dad?’
‘Eh, I don’t know.’
‘He’s not eaten yet. You could take him in some breakfast.’
‘Mam, I-’
‘Oh, never mind, son. It’s no matter. If he shouts though, go in.’
‘Does he know I’m here?’
‘Yes. I told him last night. He’s fair over the moon.’ She left, showering me with smiles.
What had I done? I’d no right to be playing with her emotions like this. I knew if I laid eyes on my old man — weak heart or not — I’d be liable to lamp him. I’d stored up a hail of misery for my mother by coming here and the thought wounded me.
I fired up a tab. The smoke filled the kitchen in an instant. I opened up a window, tried to encourage it out into the yard. As I leant over I caught sight of myself in the mirror. It had hung on the kitchen wall since I was too short to see into it. Now, I had to crouch to see myself. I looked rough as all guts. Red rings round my eyes, three days of growth. I needed serious attention.
‘Gus, just take a look at yourself.’ That’s what Debs had said to me. I looked, stared, but I saw nothing. Well, nothing I wanted to see.
‘Ella!’ I heard a roar from upstairs.
It had been years since I’d heard that roar, but it hadn’t changed much.
‘Ella. Ella.’
What was he calling for this time? Another drink? Helping off the floor? A pot to piss in?
‘Ella.’ The roar came again, followed by a thump on the floor. Then another. Three or four in quick succession.
‘Shut your hole…’ I said. I felt my voice trail off. I didn’t want to alert him to the fact I stood in his kitchen.
More thuds. ‘Ella! For the love of Christ, where are you woman?’
‘That’s it. I’m outta here.’
I stubbed my tab in the sink. Ran the tap to clear the ash down the plug hole, and dropped the dowp in the bin.
‘Ella. Ella.’ He roared from upstairs as I put on my jacket. I was doing up the buttons when my mother walked in.
‘Angus? Where are you going?’
‘I’m sorry, Mam.’
She stood open-mouthed, holding up a jar of Red Mountain. ‘But I’ve got your coffee.’
I wanted to go to her, curl her up in my arms. But I couldn’t.
‘ Ella — Ella.’
‘I have to go.’
She put down the jar, got into a panic.
‘Your dad… have you been up to him?’
‘No, Mam. I can’t do that.’
She put a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, son.’
‘I’m sorry, Mam. I have to go.’
I turned away, went for the door.