Ugly Puggly 70

When I drew up in the van outside Molly’s house, we rushed the close door, which was jammed open, and galloped upstairs using our elbows to gain leverage and get to the front. Ugly Puggly, with his long stride, took the stairs two at a time, and got into the toilet before us. He snibbed the bolt shut with an unsatisfying sound.

Turning turtle, I raced into the kitchen, and had a quick decko out the window. Nobody could see me unless they were really looking. Pulling down my zip, the first few trickles was the start of a longer affair. But then Molly was striding into the kitchen.

‘Don’t you dare,’ she cried. ‘I’ve got tae dae the dishes in there.’

‘I was only thinkin about it.’

She pressed her lips together. ‘Well don’t.’

I brushed past her. Ugly Puggly came out of the toilet, dipped his shoulder and Dave breezed past him, locking the door. I swear I could hear him laughing. Only the consolation of strangling him slowly, and watching him choke, stopped me peeing my pants. Banging on the door with the heel of my hand I cried, ‘Hurry up! Hurry up!’

I heard him fumbling with the lock. The door opened.  I pushed him backwards and stood over the pan. My relief was complete.  

Molly busied herself in the kitchen. She put the kettle on. Ugly Puggly had a perplexed look as he glanced in the fridge and was opening and closing cupboard. ‘Molly, hen, yeh huvnae food, apart fae cans. And that’s mostly Heinz Tomato soup.’

She shrugged. ‘I like soup.’

‘But I thought I’d make us somethin.’

She tapped her lacquered fingernails against the top her thigh. ‘Well, you’ll need a tin opener then. That is if I allowed you tae take liberties.’ She took a deep breath and squinted at him like he was a stranger that had asked her for a slow dance at the end of the disco. 

Ugly Puggly’s head drooped. He blinked rapidly and shrivelled under her gaze. He rubbed one thumb on top of the other. ‘I jist thought.’ Then he stopped speaking and shrugged, biting his bottom lip.

‘I’ll make the tea then,’ I tried for an upbeat tone, bounding past Dave and towards Molly. She shook her head and I knew I was beaten. Her house, her rules. A reminder of all those times, when my ba, meant who decided who plays in what team and when it was a penalty. She took her time getting the right cups out of the cupboards and setting them up on the tray. She had to reach for the packet of gingernuts and showed a pinch of girlish belly.

She threw us a hint she didn’t like being watched. ‘Go and sit doon and behave yersel.’

I wasn’t sure who she was talking to, but we all kept our heads down and scampered over to the kitchen table barely able to look at each other. Ugly Puggly rose from his seat like a gentleman in one of those plays nobody watched as she came over with the tray. I thought he’d made the mistake of trying to help her.

‘I’ll go and check on the camper van,’ he said. ‘If that’s awright?’

‘You’ll sit and drink yer tea,’ she told him. ‘I’ve already made it.  And he sunk back into the seat. She put a china plate with biscuits into the centre of the table. ‘Huv a gingernut.’ Offering up a smile, ‘It’ll dae yeh good.’

‘I’m no hungry,’ he sipped at his tea to placate her, but it didn’t work.

‘Yer moanin about me jist eatin soup. And you cannae even manage a wee biscuit.’

Dave and me grabbed a biscuit from the plate, stuffing it in our mouths in case she started on us.

I spoke with my mouth full. Bad manners ran in our family. ‘I fair love them gingernuts. Ur they homemade?’

She glared at me. ‘You love anythin that’s free.’

‘Does that include you?’

She had to think about that, which allowed us to relax. ‘You dae talk some rubbish.’  

‘I know.’ I took another biscuit. ‘That’s why I said “I do” when I married yeh.’ I sneaked a look at her. ‘To love, honour and obey,’ I reminded her.

A tutting noise escaped from her gob. ‘No to obey.’ She took a step backwards. ‘And you wouldnae know honour, if it galloped up and shat on yeh.’

Dave gave her one of his wee complicit smiles. ‘Whit about love?’

‘Aye, whit about it?’

‘I was only sayin.’

‘Well don’t. For God’s sake, whit dae yeh know about it?’

Dave put his hand on Ugly Puggly’s knee. He pulled away, the chair making a squeaking noise that made it more noticeable.  

He sat up a little straighter and made an announcement. ‘Well, me and Howard are intending to get married. He popped the question and |I said “Aye”.’

I smirked. ‘Yer no pregnant ur yeh?’

He rolled his eyes and gave a big toothy grin. His shoulders rocking as he laughed and his cheeks pinked. ‘Didnae be daft.’  He reached across and took Ugly Puggly’s hand again.

And Ugly Puggly looked back at him with innocent and soft eyes. Eyes that would never acknowledge that Dave was screwing everything that moved faster than a caterpillar squashed on the pavement but could shake his leg or two.

‘That’s nice,’ Molly glanced in my direction. It was the kind of statement that usually made me duck. But they took it at face value, without looking at her face. ‘Whit does yer mum think?’

Dave’s hollow laugh allowed Ugly Puggly to pull his hand away and tuck it back safely into his lap. ‘I’ve no told her yet.’ Her reached for a gingernut, picked it up and then put it back on the plate. ‘She suffers sore bad fae depression, but I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic. She’s no losin a son, she’s gainin a – ’

‘—new grandda,’ I cut in. ‘But whit about the practicalities? When yeh gettin yer ring seen tae?’

Ugly Puggly’s chair scraped back and he stomped past Molly. ‘I’m away tae get a few things oot the hoose,’ he mumbled out of the side of his mouth.

I sipped at my tea and reached for a gingernut as the front door banged behind him.

‘Look whit you’ve gone and done noo,’ screeched Molly. ‘You jist cannae keep it buttoned. Nae wonder I ditched yeh.’

‘Whit?’ I shrugged, but I couldn’t meet her gaze. ‘I’m sure they’ll be very happy.’

‘Shut up,’ she said. ‘And go and see if he’s awright?’

‘Why wouldnae he be awright?’ Dave asked.

‘You shut up tae,’ she told him. ‘And eat yer gingernuts.’