Swallowing Grandma (27 page)

— I could go. I could! Now the place at Univ had been taken off me, I realized I’d never wanted anything else so badly. Poll would have sorted something out with Dogman or Maggie, or I could have had a proper go at the council to see about a home help. Just because her life was restricted was no reason for mine to be as well. I’d have done it somehow.

— That’s a fib and you know it. Never mind worrying about Poll, that’s a smokescreen. You’re too scared to leave. That’s the truth. You think you’d never cope on your own.

— I would cope, I really would. They have college rooms for you to live in, and college parents to look out for you, and there are clubs to join, and tutors to talk to if you’re feeling low. And you get three meals a day but I know how to cook and clean anyway, that side of things. Thanks to Poll, I can wire a plug in seconds.

— And how good are you at speaking to strangers? Finding your way round new places? Have you really thought through how complicated adult life is? There are trains and buses to catch, maps to read, bank accounts to manage, doctors to register with; there are relationships to form and maintain and finish, all sorts of social events to attend. At some point you’ll have to learn to drive, apply for jobs, rent a house. Can you honestly imagine yourself doing these things?

— I can’t be the only one, though, there must be other students feeling scared about leaving home. I thought of Rebecca, Donna, Nicky, Alex, whatever our results were today, all of us peeling away from our old lives and spinning off into the unknown. Terrifying. But people coped, didn’t they?

— You don’t have to go anywhere. Clare Greenhalgh has bought a house two doors down from her mum and goes round every night for her tea. Better to be dull and safe. And how would Winston feel if you walked out on him? You can’t explain a degree to a dog. He’d probably pine to death, and it would be your fault.

Rainy afternoons with Winston on my lap and a box of chocolates between me and Poll on the sofa. Was it such a bad life? Being a carer was an important job, that’s what the Rehab officer had told me. The world couldn’t turn without carers. I’d never have to justify my lifestyle, leading Poll on my arm.

Then Dogman popped into my head; Dogman taking us to a cafe in Bolton once after a big win on the horses, me pointing out that other customers were leaving tips, Dogman shouting out, ‘Tip? They want a tip? I’ll give ’em a tip. Never wipe your arse on a broken bottle.’ Everyone turning round to stare while he guffawed at his own wit.

I had to get to Oxford. I had to get to Oxford, or I’d die.

There were quills all across the sky as I walked home. There’s irony for you, I thought, now trying to pick over the exam questions where I might have slipped a grade.

They were sitting round the table when I got in; Maggie, Dogman and Poll, sharing a Swiss roll.

‘There’s a Mrs Lord been on t’ phone for you,’ Poll piped up. ‘She says summat about your “insurance”, is that right? Anyroad, you’ve to ring her, she says.’

I knew what that would be. Did I want to take up my reserve offer at Aberystwyth. No, was the answer. I only stuck it down because we had to put something, and it happened to be the first one on the list.

I dialled the school number with shaking hands but only got the engaged tone.

‘Well, Vince was a clever man, you know,’ Poll was saying. ‘Brilliant wi’ figures. He should have been an accountant, really. Not stuck at t’ loco works all them years.’

‘And your Roger.’ Maggie nodded sympathetically.

‘Oh, now he was sharp as a tack. Mind you, I went in for th’ Eleven Plus, and there were only six of us sat it.’

‘Aye, I remember that,’ said Maggie. ‘Were it a clerical error?’

‘I don’t know. Unless my father demanded I sit it. He were a bit of a mard, that headmaster, he might have put me in for th’ exam just so he could have a quiet life.’

‘Didn’t you have a funny turn, though?’

Poll laughed creakily. ‘It were t’ statues. All these naked statues round the room.’

‘Where was it? The Mechanics’?’

‘That’s right. I’d never seen owt like it. And they put me bang next to a marble man, all his tackle hanging out. So the first thing I do is, I knock my inkwell ovver and there’s ink everywhere, on their nice parquet and down t’ table leg. I was never going to pass after that.’

Maggie tutted and took another slice of roll. ‘I weren’t clever at school. Do you remember the time Miss Eavis asked us which window we should shake a duster out of? She wanted me to say, it depends on the way the wind’s blowing, but I said the back window, in case the neighbours see how dusty your house is. She thought I was being cheeky. And I got the cane once off Mr Marsden, for saying the Equator was an imaginary lion that ran round the world. They weren’t nice like they are now, teachers.’

‘I’m dyslexic,’ said Dogman.

The phone rang under my hand and I jumped a mile.

‘Hello? May I speak to Katherine Millar please?’ My heart rejoiced to hear Mrs Law’s stern tones.

I started to gabble about Aberystwyth and having a re-mark, but she stopped me.

‘I’ve been onto the Admissions Tutor at University College and they’re going to call me back. There’s nothing you can do at the moment but wait. Would you be prepared to accept a deferred place, if one were offered?’

‘I don’t know. I’m scared that if I don’t go this year, I’ll never go. Do you understand what I mean?’

‘Yes, I think I do.’ Mrs Law was brisk. ‘But you’d take it if it was the only option?’

‘I suppose.’

‘Good. I’ll get back to you as soon as I hear from them. All right?’

After I put the receiver down I had to face Poll.

‘So, did you get in, or what?’ There’s something about Poll’s eyes; even though she can’t see very well, it feels as though she’s staring into your soul. Maggie and Dogman turned to look at me.

‘They’re going to let me know. But if I do get a place, I’m going to take it, Poll. I have to.’

Poll’s face fell. I could tell she was totally shocked. Maggie reached across and patted her on the arm. Dogman shrugged and took an enormous bite of cake.

‘Cross that bridge when you come to it,’ murmured Maggie, still patting away.

‘I’ll be upstairs, then,’ I said, like the coward I was. ‘Can nobody use the phone till Mrs Law calls back?’

‘Now don’t get yourself in a state. It’ll probably come to naught,’ I heard Maggie say as I left the room.

It was past dinner time when Mrs Law called back. I went to tell Poll straight after. She was in the kitchen with Maggie, Dogman having gone off to the betting shop. Maggie was watching her make a cup of tea; pick up the cordless kettle with one hand, find the tap with the other and turn it on, feel up the side of the kettle for the spout and, keeping her fingers there, move it across the sink till it was under the stream and she had water splashing over her fingertips; then take her fingers away whilst keeping the kettle totally still. I saw her listening for the sound of it getting full and testing the weight of it through her wrist. Then she turned back and felt around for the little contact knob on the kettle base, and slotted it home. Her fingers crawled up the handle to the switch at the top, and she flicked it on. I slipped over and turned the tap off for her.

‘Well?’

‘I’ve got in. I’ve got a place at Oxford for this October,’ I said, feeling queasy with fear and happiness.

‘That’s smashing, love,’ said Maggie, uncertainly. ‘Fancy. We s’ll have to start talking posh now, you and me, Poll. Holding our little fingers up when we sup our tea.’

Poll’s expression was one of utter dismay. ‘So are you going?’

Maggie held her breath.

‘I don’t see how I can’t. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Some people would give their right arm for a place.’

‘That’s right,’ said Maggie. ‘You’ve to mek the most of your education. Although Manchester University’s very good, and it’s close to home. Dawn’s Paul went there and he works for Marks and Spencer’s now.’

‘But I haven’t got a place at Manchester. I’ve got one at Oxford. Don’t you see, being clever is the only thing I’ve ever been good at. It’s the right place for me. It’ll give me time to think what to do with my life. I’ll come back.’

‘Aye, but will you?’ wailed Poll. ‘Will you come back to your blind old grandma once you’ve tasted the good life? Or will you be off to London or somewhere, doing some high-powered job with no time even for a visit?’

‘Of course she’ll come back,’ said Maggie. ‘Won’t you, love? Yes, look, she says she will.’

‘But how am I going to cope without you?’

The kettle clicked off. Poll reached for it angrily and, before either Maggie or I could stop her, she’d snatched it up and poured boiling water over the kitchen top and down her leg.

‘How am I going to manage on my own?’ she kept saying as we cut her tights off and bathed her shin with cold water. ‘Is it blistering?’

‘No, it’s just red, that’s all,’ said Maggie.

‘Well, it stings like the devil. I should see a doctor.’

‘I don’t think there’s any need.’ I left them while I went to mop up the mess in the kitchen.

‘What if I’m in shock?’ she shouted after me.

‘I’ll ring the surgery, ask Mrs Ashburner at reception, if you like.’

‘Aye, do that. Tell her I’m in terrible pain.’

I’ll tell her you are a pain, I thought. She’s tipped scalding water on herself deliberately, Mrs Ashburner. What would you do with her?

‘Tell you what,’ I said from the doorway, ‘I’ll go up there and ask if there’s anything I can get from the chemist. Are you all right to stay, Maggie?’

Maggie nodded. But she followed me to the front door.

‘You have to understand, love, she lost her son when he went away to college.’

Do you think I’m stupid, I nearly said. ‘I know. But that was different.’

‘I’m just saying.’

I backed out, pulling the door to sharply. I needed to go to the library and see Miss Dragon.

*

‘It wasn’t exactly
The Corn is Green
,’ I told Miss Dragon. No one to lift me shoulder-high and carry me in triumph down the street: nobody strong enough.

‘I expect your grandma’s proud, really, she needs some time to get used to the idea. Anyway, never mind that. You’ve got in, that’s what’s important,’ she said, giving me a hug unexpectedly. Miss Mouse, standing by, touched my arm and smiled shyly. This was more like it. I hadn’t felt so happy for ages.

‘We’ve got you this, for your studies,’ Miss Dragon went on, bringing out a Waterstone’s bag from under the counter. ‘I’d have given it to you whether or not, because I know you’ll use it.’

It felt like a brick, but it turned out to be
The Oxford Companion to English Literature
. Both women had signed their names under a Best Wishes for the Future message on the flyleaf. I glanced round to see who might be watching, but there was hardly anyone in; Thursday afternoon, a quarter to two. Come half three it gets busier, when school comes out.

‘I feel I have a vested interest in your education.’ Miss Dragon picked up a pile of leaflets from the desk and shuffled them like cards till they were edge to edge neatly. She lined them up with the corner of the counter. ‘We think you’ll go on to great things. It’s about time you left us behind, spread your wings.’

Then the phone rang and Miss Dragon picked up. I stood for a while, in case it was going to be a short call and there’d be more time for singing my praises. Miss Mouse waited too, smiling all the time.

‘Well done,’ she whispered, twice, before drifting away.

I watched her thread her way between revolving book stands to work at the table Callum and I had used, last time we’d been here. Callum again. When was he going to stop invading my head? But I ached to tell him my news.
Fan-fucking-tastic
, I could hear him saying. I wished to God he’d call, even if it was only so I could tell him to get lost.

I looked back at stout, lovely Miss Dragon tapping the notepad with her blunt-ended fingers, her mouth showing impatience with whoever was on the other end. She was stretching herself up straight and pulling her cardigan round her. I could tell she was cross with someone. But she liked me. And whatever I’d been thinking, even if she was a lesbian, there was no gayness in that hug. It had been warm and kind, happy for my happiness; maternal.

*

It wasn’t long before Vince caught up with me. I wasn’t sure what you did when you left a rented place, so I’d taken the keys but left a note of my dad’s phone number on top of the TV. Daft really, but I wasn’t thinking straight.

We met on the Town Hall steps; I told him where I’d be. When I handed over the keys, he said, ‘If you’re sure. You could have stayed there longer, if you wanted.’

‘Will you be coming back?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve to look after her now. She’s been pretty poorly.’ He scratched his head like he was embarrassed. ‘She took some finding.’

‘Who?’ I asked, because I wanted to hear him say it.

‘Judith.’

‘And the baby.’

‘Aye; and t’ little lad. Little Callum.’ He’d smiled fondly and I’d wanted to slap him in the face.

‘I don’t need you any more,’ I said rudely.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘But I’ll still send you money.’

In films they always say, ‘I don’t want your money’, but I kept quiet. The packets came for years, all the time I was at college, and I spent them all.

Don’t think I loved him, because I didn’t. I realized long ago he wasn’t father material; Katherine’s or mine. He was just useful for a while.

Rebecca got her place at Bristol, Donna was off to Lancaster by the skin of her teeth. For two whole weeks I was leaving Bank Top to go to Oxford, till Fate poked me in the eye once again.

At home, Poll, Maggie and Dogman had been mounting a three-pronged attack to dissuade me from going.

‘You’ll have to completely change the way you talk, you know. They’ll never understand you like you are. They’ll think you’re mentally deficient.’ – Poll.

‘I’ve brought you a brochure on Manchester University. It’s six year owd, but I don’t suppose t’ place has changed that much. Dawn says Paul was home every weekend, and he could have stopped there if he’d wanted, and travelled in each day. It would save you a stack of money. Otherwise you end up in terrible debt, for years.’ – Maggie.