Read Online Mo said she was quirky by James Kelman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: James Kelman
Ads: Link
Children knew. It doesnt matter if the injustice is to another, it is every bit as horrible. It was like that with Dad towards Brian, and it was horrible to see. Why did a parent do that? It so spoiled things. And Dad smiling to her as if she was on his side, and she wasnt; she wasnt on anybody’s side; it just wasnt fair, and when she got older too
Brian was a good brother and she loved him. Her memories from childhood were fond. The photographs were there and there was nothing to say otherwise. He was so tall and she was so wee, he was the horse and he went galloping with her. She was up on his shoulders clinging on, oh clinging on because of how he galloped and the force threw her back and she had to hold on, hold on, gripping his forehead and him just laughing and galloping. My horsie; she shouted that.
Oh and she would not fall, she would never fall, he wouldnt let her.
There was nothing about his behaviour. If it ever crossed anybody’s mind. If they ever thought anything. What could they think, it was just horrible, if it was his head or neck and her legs, just a little girl, that was all she was, if her legs were wrapped round him, that was nothing, it was just nothing, if ever people thought such a thing.
Unless Dad, if it was something with him but there was nothing with him. It was only the favouritism. She was her daddy’s girl and Brian was a big boy. What was unusual about that? Would any dad be different? She was his girl; that was how he said it, You are my wee girl. And he called her ‘jellybelly’. Mum didnt like him saying it. Why not? ‘Jellybelly’. What was wrong with it, ‘jellybelly’ like it was her fault, it wasnt her fault, how could it be, she didnt ask for it my God it was only fun, father to daughter. It wasnt rude, did Mum think it was rude?
There was a coldness in Mum. With Sophie too. There wasnt the sparkle when she phoned, not what you might expect from a grandmother. She hardly asked a question; what are you doing in school, have you got a best friend. Nothing like that. She was tough. Helen would never have been so tough, not on a child. Perhaps if it was a grandson Mum would have acted differently; she preferred boys, or seemed to.
Oh well, nothing could be done about that. Boys were supposed to get on with things and not bother. Perhaps that was it. If it was even true. Children are children. Sophie was quite girlish but why not if she was a girl? A girl was allowed to be a girl, my God, what do people want?
None of Helen’s toys ever remained in Mum’s house, not even as keepsakes. Although why else would they have been kept? For sentimental value? That was a joke, Mum and sentimentality.
It was so unfair. What had she ever done? Nothing, exceptwanting things to be nice. They were if people tried. People didnt try. Why didnt they? Helen could never understand that. Only if they tried, if people tried. Mum never tried.
It was so different for Mo with his cousins and uncles and aunties. Relations still wrote to his parents from Pakistan. They kept in touch with one another. Mo knew some of their names and could speak about them as if they were ordinary relations and they werent, he had never seen them. Even his father hadnt seen some of them. It was amazing and wonderful. And quite strange really. Helen had nothing like that, except the cousins in New Zealand and the pile of ones in Australia. She spoke to Mum about it but they were Dad’s relations and Mum had lost their address, or didnt have it in the first place. It would have been nice to make the contact.
Helen wouldnt phone her about Brian. Not if it wasnt him: why raise her hopes? She should only be told if it was him for certain. It was so unlikely. All those years. Why had he not been in touch? You shouldnt act like that to your own family, your mother a widow. That was so selfish. If he did hold a grudge it was against Dad but Dad was dead. He knew Dad was dead. The police traced him and told him. He had
Brian was a good brother and she loved him. Her memories from childhood were fond. The photographs were there and there was nothing to say otherwise. He was so tall and she was so wee, he was the horse and he went galloping with her. She was up on his shoulders clinging on, oh clinging on because of how he galloped and the force threw her back and she had to hold on, hold on, gripping his forehead and him just laughing and galloping. My horsie; she shouted that.
Oh and she would not fall, she would never fall, he wouldnt let her.
There was nothing about his behaviour. If it ever crossed anybody’s mind. If they ever thought anything. What could they think, it was just horrible, if it was his head or neck and her legs, just a little girl, that was all she was, if her legs were wrapped round him, that was nothing, it was just nothing, if ever people thought such a thing.
Unless Dad, if it was something with him but there was nothing with him. It was only the favouritism. She was her daddy’s girl and Brian was a big boy. What was unusual about that? Would any dad be different? She was his girl; that was how he said it, You are my wee girl. And he called her ‘jellybelly’. Mum didnt like him saying it. Why not? ‘Jellybelly’. What was wrong with it, ‘jellybelly’ like it was her fault, it wasnt her fault, how could it be, she didnt ask for it my God it was only fun, father to daughter. It wasnt rude, did Mum think it was rude?
There was a coldness in Mum. With Sophie too. There wasnt the sparkle when she phoned, not what you might expect from a grandmother. She hardly asked a question; what are you doing in school, have you got a best friend. Nothing like that. She was tough. Helen would never have been so tough, not on a child. Perhaps if it was a grandson Mum would have acted differently; she preferred boys, or seemed to.
Oh well, nothing could be done about that. Boys were supposed to get on with things and not bother. Perhaps that was it. If it was even true. Children are children. Sophie was quite girlish but why not if she was a girl? A girl was allowed to be a girl, my God, what do people want?
None of Helen’s toys ever remained in Mum’s house, not even as keepsakes. Although why else would they have been kept? For sentimental value? That was a joke, Mum and sentimentality.
It was so unfair. What had she ever done? Nothing, exceptwanting things to be nice. They were if people tried. People didnt try. Why didnt they? Helen could never understand that. Only if they tried, if people tried. Mum never tried.
It was so different for Mo with his cousins and uncles and aunties. Relations still wrote to his parents from Pakistan. They kept in touch with one another. Mo knew some of their names and could speak about them as if they were ordinary relations and they werent, he had never seen them. Even his father hadnt seen some of them. It was amazing and wonderful. And quite strange really. Helen had nothing like that, except the cousins in New Zealand and the pile of ones in Australia. She spoke to Mum about it but they were Dad’s relations and Mum had lost their address, or didnt have it in the first place. It would have been nice to make the contact.
Helen wouldnt phone her about Brian. Not if it wasnt him: why raise her hopes? She should only be told if it was him for certain. It was so unlikely. All those years. Why had he not been in touch? You shouldnt act like that to your own family, your mother a widow. That was so selfish. If he did hold a grudge it was against Dad but Dad was dead. He knew Dad was dead. The police traced him and told him. He had
Similar Books
