One summer

One summer my old school mate Tom once said that fisherman looked all the same. I told him that that was rubbish because my granddad didn’t look anything like my Uncle Pete and they’d been fishing best part of fifty years. I said that golfers were the spitting image of each other though. He cracked up and told me, rocking his head back with laughter, that I was such an idiot. Golfers were different, he said, because they, ‘just all wore the same caps.‘

Reason I mention it now is because two fishermen just walked by heading for the canal, carrying all kinds of clobber, looked like they were going away for a fortnight. Almost took my eye out one of them did, swinging his rod about like some porn star. Anyway, turns out Tom was right, absolute spitting image of each other they were. Turned back the clock right there and then, right back to the time I was a teen again living at mums.

***

So there was Big sis, Auntie Pauline, mum and me. We were fairly crammed in since Auntie Pauline came. Her fella had tipped the balance and she was a gonna, outa there. I don’t blame her; he was a dick. I saw him once fighting outside ‘The Black Swan’, school night it was too. He was windmilling his arms about like he was in a kids’ playground. I never told her I caught sight of him. She had enough on her plate, what with her son being ill and all that. Poor sod.

Mum phoned today. She wondered why I never got in touch, gave me a right ear bashing she did. Told me that dad had been sniffing about lately while she was on her own one evening. Said she didn’t let him in but he was all persuasive, sweetness and light, as if nothing had ever happened. I promised then that I’d go round soon, put some better locks on, net curtains too.

Did I really come from him? Must have been a mix up at the hospital. I read somewhere the other day that it could happen. That’s right, a woman discovered that her parents weren’t her actual parents. It came about when she had an operation at the hospital one day. Sued the government for all kinds of money, she did, and so did the parents. Hey! I could make some money here and reckon I deserve it. That reminds me, when I used to play up as a kid, mum would always say that she couldn’t believe I’d come from her. ‘Nothing like your sister, either’, she’d shout, as I skirted the corner of the street with my tail between my legs.

Dad jumped ship one summer. Promised me the world then gave me a fat lip. I swung first but he had the edge, must’ve been all that practice on mum. I remember stair sitting one Friday night, hiding behind the balustrades. I saw him raise his arm; I didn’t see him strike her but I did see her fall. That night I wet the bed real bad, and from then on there must’ve been a permanent indentation on that step where my arse had plonked itself every time I heard the door latch go after lights out. Big sis never knew. She got out early, ‘on good behaviour’, Auntie Pauline said.

Been seeing this girl, Suze. She said she’s trying to put me right, whatever that means. She’s a great catch, best one I’ve ever had, really salt of the earth with a heart of gold. Trouble is, don’t know if I fancy her. Well I do in certain lights, just not when it’s too bright. Dusk is spot on, and that’s when we tend to meet to be honest.

In three weeks she seems to have sussed me out, said she could see straight through me after only the second date at the movies. I dunno how she does it. (I was unsure about being with someone that could see straight through me, I mean what if there was nothing there when they looked.) I told her the film must’ve been bad if all she was doing was x-raying my every move, especially in the poor light. To be fair, it was shit. Think I was testing her credentials to see just how much she liked me by taking her to see a ‘howler’. Anyway, she passed. I mean, whoever can sit through all of ‘Street Fighter II’ has done well, don’t you think. What else is there to throw at a girl after a performance like that? Anyway, maybe she was allowed a little peek inside, it’s more than I ever did.

So, I saw enough in her to show her off to mum one August evening. And I don’t know why but I felt real nervous before I picked her up, finger could barely find the doorbell with all its shaking. Not like me, dunno what was wrong. Had to stop off for a can en route or else I might never have made it. In fact, that was the first thing she picked up on even before I opened my mouth. ‘Steady on Sherlock’, I said. Then I reminded myself that I had arrived quite late and that it had been a super-strength can of lager, and…Ok, maybe it didn’t take an Einstein after all.

We could smell meatloaf as we entered the drive, used to be one of my favourites. I couldn’t work out why it wasn’t anymore, until I remembered the last time I’d had it was the day dad struck mum. I don’t recall having it again after that; or maybe we did but I just couldn’t taste it. I wondered to myself if I’d be able to taste it tonight. 

After tea mum got the photo albums out. I pretended I was looking. She always did it when someone new came to visit, and every time I thought, mum, the last person who wants a history lesson of the our family is a person that’s visiting the house for the first time. Bloody hell, not even I want to hear about it again! Suze shrugged it off saying that she thought it was lovely, although Auntie Pauline got all choked up when she saw a photo of her boy and went upstairs. Cutest little thing her Bobby was, dressed in his Arsenal kit, ball under his arm, look of pride on his face. Made me all of a mush too when I saw him.

After five minutes I decided to follow Auntie Pauline to see if she was ok. I found her in my old room lying on the bed she used sleep in after Big sis moved out. I told her to budge up so I was in a better position to help. A smudged face and snotty nose said it all.

‘Paul, you ok?’

‘She’s lovely, ya know. Don’t let her go.’ She replied, after a long pause, pointing one finger through the doorway and down the stairs, while trying to get mascara out of her eye with the other.

‘Sorry ‘bout mum, she always gets them out at the wrong time. I dunno what’s the matter with her sometimes.’

She rolled on to her back and blew her nose, one of those fog horn blows where you’re not totally sure if it’s fake or not, and you feel like you need to check for brain remnants on the tissue just in case. Under those circumstances, I gave her the benefit of the doubt, especially as I was annoyed at the fact that I couldn’t even trust someone’s ‘nose blow’. My dad used to sneeze in a similar way, like his life depended on it. If you were in the same room and didn’t see it coming, you would jump at least a foot off the chair. I was never sure if he sneezed like that because he really wanted to scare me. But to be honest, whatever the reason was, I decided that I used to love those moments because he always followed the noise with a little smile, and this was the only time I ever felt connected to him.

After Auntie Pauline had cleaned herself up, she went back down with the others. I heard mum apologise, which seemed to briefly set her off again.

I then somehow found myself on the stairs looking through the balustrades. Peering my way into the lounge, I caught sight of Suze tucking in to tea and biscuits. She was laughing together with mum and Auntie Pauline, something about how biscuits should have a ‘dunk factor’ so you don’t lose half of it to the bottom of your mug. ‘I’d buy them!’ Auntie Pauline said. Then they burst into a fit of the giggles.

All of a sudden the front door latch clicked, and, it was as if the last ten years had been a dream. I wriggled on the stairs, just like I had before. My mouth dried, just like it had before. I was no longer a man, just like I was before.

A voice, a voice yelling, pissed off, stressed out, but the voice of Big sis, excusing herself for missing tea, and complaining about customers, trains, and wet hair from the rain. I was so relieved, felt like my head had just come up for air after a near drowning.

When I got my breath back, I wondered if I would ever leave all this behind, and whether Suze’s x-ray vision would eventually have the power to put me back together. But then I remembered the meatloaf tea, how sweet it tasted and how it had become my favourite again.

And it was this thought that lifted me up and carried me off into the front room where mum, Auntie Pauline and Suze were reliving the 'dunking' story with Big sis, sending them all into hysterics. And there, even in the bright lights, Suze was looking such a picture – the eyes alive and gleaming, her smile all real.