Crappily Ever After (24 page)

Mike and I decide that, from now on, only we do the cashing up. No matter how tired we are. Now that we have a lot of our money back from the rucksack, it seems that a fairly small amount of our profit has disappeared up Nick’s nose. However, it turned out a huge price for Nick. In

time, that is. Receiving somewhere in the region of seven years, or so we heard from some insiders Pablo knows. That’s it. I am officially done with men. I am so sick of this constant cycle of users and losers. From now on it’s me, my friends and family – and no room for anyone else. The male species have finally got on my last nerve. I reiterate this to Becky, Mike and Pablo. From now on I have no interest in a relationship. I want no attempts to be made at matchmaking. I will run my business and forget about men altogether. There’s only so much I can take and every time it goes wrong. It’s fine for Becky and Mike and other people, but for me, I’m taking early retirement from men. 

                                                  Chapter Nineteen   

And so the season ends. To say that it’s been eventful would be putting it mildly. I receive a letter from Nick in prison, asking if I’d visit him since he is so far from home and knows nobody here. The nerve of him! After all he has done. I don’t even bother replying. I tell Becky and Mike that I won’t bother going on the Australia trip. We are several weeks later than planned as it was still busy. We didn’t want to close up while our trade was still there. We won’t be earning anything over the quiet times, but still paying our huge rent. Mike put our flights back by three weeks. Luckily, it had occurred to him to take out insurance, which covered the cost of the change. We now have one week at home and only three weeks in Australia. Mike and Becky won’t hear of me bailing out and I insist I won’t be a gooseberry.

We pack up the restaurant until the end of November, and ask Pablo to keep an eye on the place a few times a week. He and his family are moving to another house, but will be renovating it in the meantime. He can do better than keeping an eye on the place; they can all move in to keep it extra safe. Sneaky, but very true. And it makes us happier about leaving the restaurant. Even if we will spend months afterwards cleaning crayon off the walls. He is astounded that we are paying him to not work. Roberto never did. I tell him that this way we make sure he comes back to us. He nods seriously and seems genuinely upset when we leave. I give him a hug and tell him it’s only for a month.

‘I will miss you, but is not why I am sad. My wife say I must look after the children while not working as she has to look after builders.’

He drives us to the airport and waves us off. After that, a white-knuckle ride of a journey, I am no longer scared to get on the plane.         

We arrive back in Edinburgh and walk out into the freezing cold evening.

‘Bloody hell! Was it always this cold?’ asks Mike, ‘and did we always have Christmas lights up in October?’ He glances along Prince’s Street in confusion. We all head to Waverley station to catch the train home. Edinburgh looks even more beautiful than usual. Prince’s Street twinkles with fairy lights. People hold hands and skate around on the man made ice rink in the park. Everything is covered in a soft haze of frost. Beautiful. Then a nut seller on the corner breaks the spell.

‘Hot chestnuuuuts. Get your nuts!’

‘Welcome back to Scotland,’ I laugh. We fall asleep on the journey home, soothed by the gentle rocking and the repetitive sound of the train on the tracks. I wake at Dundee station as some drunks alight, making lots of noise. I yawn widely and stretch, nudging Becky awake so I can say goodbye. Time to phone home.

I gather up my bags and three stuffed donkeys with sombreros. Yes, I have taken home tacky gifts, but it’s intentional. I know full well that no-one will throw out anything I give them. I like the thought of annoying my family when I’m not there. As they open a cupboard and a large stuffed donkey with a hat on falls out every time. I can imagine them kicking it with frustration for several months, before guiltily wrapping it in bin bags and shoving it up the loft. I aim to take home one for each person. Four in one house will

be funny. Three in my sister’s new flat – and she doesn’t even have a loft. I chortle. I’ve missed my family. Annoying them is long overdue.        

I hug Becky and Mike goodbye, telling them I’ll see them in a week’s time and clamber out of the carriage in as dignified a way as I can, and make my usual trip up the staircase and down the other. There’s Mary, in her usual parking spot, usual pose. But she’s not smoking any more. Happy with her Bill-free life now, she gave up. She still enjoys a drink or two. Well, when the kids are away for the weekend, as they are on this particular one. They’ve seen enough debauchery in their short lives thanks to their father. The new Mary wants to show her children how they should live, in a happy and healthy way. She feels and actually looks like a teenager again; I’m sure that’s due to being much happier. I’m desperate to catch up on gossip.

‘So how did Bill take it?’ I ask, as we reverse, narrowly missing a man with a suitcase.

‘Stupid cow!’ he shouts.

‘Up yours!’ shouts Mary jovially.

Mary told Bill to sling his hook a few months ago. He was extremely shocked. Even more surprised was his father, Bill senior, who shortly afterwards was booted out by his wife. Inspired by Mary, Joan was happier than she had ever been, and was currently causing havoc on the speed-dating circuit.

‘Not good at first,’ admits Mary. ‘Seems OK now, if having a nineteen-year-old Polish girlfriend named Kasia is anything to go by. She bugs me so much, she’s actually teaching the kids Polish and now they won’t speak to each other in English. I don’t have a clue what they are saying, but I know they’re probably plotting against me.’

‘That’s not good. Why don’t you insist they speak English at home?’ I ask.

‘Nah. They would do it even more if they knew it annoyed me. Besides, I thought it’d be funnier if I beat them at their own game,’ Mary gives a mischievous laugh and revs up her engine at the pensioner in front of us, who has stalled at a green light.

‘Shift your arse, Grandpa! Anyway, I’ve enrolled in an evening class twice a week, learning Polish. They think it’s a pottery class. Can’t wait ‘til I learn enough to play them at their own game. Also means I get to find out what the little buggers are saying about me. I’m not too bad at it, actually.’     

We head up to Uncle Robert’s house, where the whole family is gathered. The racket coming from the house is immense, with everyone talking over each other and at least seven different conversations going on at one time. It makes my restaurant on Spanish karaoke night sound tame. I arrive to lots of hugs and several,

‘Ooh, you’re not as fat as you were’ comments. They can’t just be nice and say I’ve lost weight. It has to be the worst possible way of giving a compliment. We all do it to each other. It’s not mean. Rather, it’s character building. Made me who I am today.

‘So, I hear you excelled yourself with the latest boyfriend then?’ Auntie Betty takes the first shot of open season.

‘Yeh, what would you know! A violent, junkie thief,’ I reply.

‘With a dead wife?’ asks Uncle Jim.

‘No. No dead wife that he told me about.’

‘How long did he get?’ Craig, this time.

‘Seven years.’

‘Lucky bastard. Got off lightly compared to a lifetime with you.’

 ‘Stop. Bloody. Swearing.’ Slaps from Betty punctuate each word.

‘Oww! Yeh right, ma. No idea where I get it from! The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree, did it?’

‘So how’s the business?’ Auntie Sarah, the sensible, normal one. Probably because she married into our lot instead of being born in. Same with Uncle Jim – they are the only two semi-normal ones. Even then, years of corruption are apparent.

‘Great,’ I enthuse, ‘we are making an absolute fortune. It’s so much fun too. You must come over next summer.’

‘We all are,’ says Mum. ‘Booking up for two weeks in July. Make sure you get time off.’

‘Ma, I’m the boss, I can do what I like,’ I laugh. It still hasn’t sunk in yet with Mum that I have my own restaurant. An entire resort subjected to the Ramseys. God help us.      

It’s so good being at home. Being cooked for again is a novelty. My sister seems infinitely happier without Bill. So do the kids. She thinks that’s what they said anyway. It was in Polish. Her flat is gorgeous – airy and bright, with an amazing colour scheme and classic furniture. She always has had good taste, well, except for in men, and she’s gone back to work, but as a window dresser this time. She couldn’t be happier. A guy from my year at school, working in white goods, has been flirting with her non-stop. She is lapping up the attention after years of being starved of it.

I give her an early Christmas present: three tickets to Tenerife for New Year. Thanks to Bill’s various addictions, they have never had a family holiday. She is over the moon and

phones up to tell the kids. It could wait, but I’m guessing it has the added bonus of annoying Bill. I give Mum her Christmas present too: another ticket to Tenerife. She beams at me and tells me how proud she is of what I’m doing.

On Sunday afternoon Mary arrives to pick me up to go to her place. Josh and Jess are arriving home this afternoon and I can’t wait to see them. Before the kids get back, and she’s not allowed to swear, she gives me a lot of abuse over the three stuffed donkeys.                     

Halfway through the
Eastenders
omnibus, two coffees and half a packet of chocolate biscuits later, there is a loud, irate beep from a car in the street. Mary stands up to look out of the window. Immediately, there’s another louder and more insistent beep.

‘For Christ’s sake, I’m going as fast as I can,’ Mary snaps. ’Oh, I might have known. Kasia! Why that idiot wouldn’t want to spend every moment he can with his children is beyond me.’ She makes a face at me, steps into her trainers and heads down the stairs to street level. Determined not to miss out on getting a glimpse of Bill’s new girlfriend, I shove on Mary’s slippers and follow her downstairs. Kasia is unloading the kids’ bags from the boot of her car. She straightens up and I take in her tall, slim form. With her huge chest, she looks like she could topple over at any moment.

‘Those can’t be real,’ I stare at Mary in shock.

‘Probably not, I guess it’s the reason he’s taken on a second job as a taxi driver. To pay for that rack,’ Mary coughs back a laugh. Kasia is talking quickly in Polish as she helps Jess from the back seat. I’m awestruck to hear my small niece babble away in her new found language. If it wasn’t disloyal to Mary, I’d be seriously impressed. Kasia loads up the kids with their bags and crosses her arm across her chest – with difficulty, I must say

– and aims an attitude-laden glare at my sister. I snort with laughter. The nerve of the woman! Sorry, adolescent. Mary shoots me a look of amusement.

‘
Tam jest twoja Mama, idz do niej
,’ Kasia says to Josh and Jess. ‘
Idz do niej.’
She ushers them towards Mary. I watch as my sister frantically tries to translate her words.

‘There is your Mother, go to her,’ Mary covers her mouth and says just loud enough for me to hear.

‘
Pamietaj mow, po Polsku w domu
,’ continues Kasia. I see Mary’s hackles rise.

‘
Mamus sie to nie podoba
!’ shouts my sister. I can’t decide who is most shocked. Jess looks at Josh open-mouthed, Josh drops his bag and Kasia’s chin drops to the ground, well almost, her boobs were in the way.

‘
Mow po Angielsku do moich dzieci, krowo
!’ Mary coolly informs her. Of what, I’m not sure at this stage. Josh laughs and Jess, seeing this is an obviously acceptable thing to do if Josh does, joins in.

‘Come on, where are my hugs?’ calls Mary. The children run towards her.

‘No you don’t,’ I stop Jessica mid-run and scoop her up, ‘I’m long overdue for a hug, Mummy can wait.’

Mary and I walk back towards the flat with Josh and Jess. Mary suddenly remembers something and turns back towards the car:

‘Oh, Kasia, can you hold on just one moment please? I’ve got some toys for the kids to take to their Dad’s house. I know they don’t have many there.’ Kasia rolls her eyes and looks at her watch with a dramatic sigh. Mary runs upstairs and arrives back moments later with a large stuffed donkey under each arm. We walk back to the flat holding on to