Sing Like You Know the Words (41 page)

It was a strange sensation to
drive this route after so many years: not because the streets were
unfamiliar, but because they were so little changed, when
everything else had moved on.

David took a short cut, making a
right turn by the old park. He was pleased with himself for
remembering the way. But the park was a mess. It had not been a
pretty space to begin with, but what bored youths had vandalised
the council had ignored. The grass had died or been burned away in
patches and broken glass was trodden into the hard ground. The
houses that fronted the park did not look too bad but there was
rubbish in the street and in the front yards. It was a place no one
cared about any more.

Matthew’s mother lived a few
streets further on, where the houses were neater, and the gardens
grew things that were planted rather than dumped. The cars and the
windows looked clean, but there was graffiti on the wall of the
chip shop at the end of the street that was now a Chinese takeaway.
It must feel like being under siege living here, he thought.

Mrs James welcomed him in,
offered him tea and asked him to sit in the front room, all in one
breath. Instead he stood in the tiny kitchen talking to her while
the kettle boiled. They had only met a few times, but he remembered
her well and knew the type of lady she was. If you wanted a
conversation, the kitchen was the place to have it. In any of the
other rooms, she would be up and about constantly, picking at half
finished tasks or finding new ones that needed to be done. Here in
the kitchen, where the work was done standing up and everything
that was needed was close to hand, was the nearest she would come
to being at rest.

-It’s been a while David. I’m
sure that Matthew will be along soon. He’s late for everything, as
you know. Not very polite of him though, when you´re so busy. He
told me he´d like the two of you to spend some time in the
neighbourhood before dinner: or lunch I should say. I don´t know
what he thinks you´ll find, but anyway it’s always nice to see
you.

David shrugged.

-We´ve known each other too long
to worry about Matt being polite, but I can´t stay all day. He said
something about showing me how the ordinary people live. I think he
believes I’m in danger of forgetting.

-He wants to save your soul from
the damnation of politics.

-I don’t think Matt believes in
souls.

Mrs James took on a more serious
expression.

-Well, I’m not sure that I do
either. But after what we heard you say on the radio, I suppose
that has something to do with it.

-I read your letter. You didn’t
approve.

-You said some things that you
don’t believe. At least I hope you don’t. If you do, you’ve changed
your opinions a great deal. I supposed that you were saying what
you did because you thought it was what voters wanted to hear.

-I’m trying to be a member of
parliament. To do that you have to keep being elected.

Mrs James gave him a hard
stare.

-I understand that way of doing
things. I can’t say that I think much of it. I’m a simple person, I
know. To me there’s right and wrong. You do your best to say what’s
right, as you see it, then people can choose whether they agree
with you or not. It might not be an easy path but if you leave it
I´m not sure where you end up. Some of your friends in parliament
seem to say whatever is most convenient for them.

-They´re not friends. And if I
did that, I would know, inside myself, that what I was saying was
wrong.

-Would you, David? Are you sure?
Matthew tells me that you do believe in the soul. He says that´s
why you trust yourself to make good choices. That’s lucky for you.
The rest of us have to rely on principles.

David smiled.

-You make it sound as if you
think that I don’t have any.

-I’m sorry; I didn’t mean that.
I meant to say; most of us need some fixed rules that we can live
by. Rules that are bigger than ourselves, even if we reason them
out for ourselves. We don’t hear some inner voice that might tell
us one thing on one day and the opposite thing the next. I don’t
believe I could trust in that.

-I wouldn’t have expected you to
have thought so much about it.

-Because I’m a practical old
woman? Well it’s a practical matter isn’t it? Besides, I’ve lived a
long time. And I never had much school to make me think the same as
everyone else. I´ve had to work out my opinions for myself.

David took a sip of tea. The
conversation was turning out to be more interesting than he had
expected.

-Do you read the newspapers Mrs
James?

-I buy one of the cheap ones,
out of habit, for the puzzles and the TV pages. I listen to the
radio to find out what´s happening. The papers are funny though,
the way they twist everything. Once you understand the trick, it’s
like a game to imagine what really happened or what someone might
have really said, from what they report; and how the paper has
changed it to make you think about it in a certain way. I suppose
most people read newspapers that way now, as entertainment. I hope
so at least.

She paused to offer him a
biscuit, David declined.

-It´s popular to think that
people are stupid, she continued, but I don´t believe it. Most of
them just prefer to let themselves be carried along by all the
nonsense because they don´t think they can do anything about it – I
suppose to make their jobs and their lives easier. Oh, and I do
read the Examiner of course – well, usually. Some of it is a bit
dull I admit, but don’t tell Matthew I said so.

-If you understand how the media
works, then I suppose you know why I have to be careful about what
I say in public?

-I’m not sure that I do. I
understand it might make things easier for you, if you pretend to
believe what everyone else says they believe, but what’s the point
of it? What are you trying to achieve? Matthew says you don’t need
the money, which I suppose is why most politicians are in it, so
what can you get that is worth being dishonest for? It ruins a
person, telling lies. It becomes a habit like it did for Matthew´s
father. And that’s what they are you know - lies. I’m sorry I have
to put it like that, but to me, when you’re saying things that you
know aren’t true, or that you don’t believe, then you´re lying.

She seemed to be quite upset at
what she was saying, but having made up her mind to say it, she was
determined to finish.

-If you said, this is what I
think and if you agree with me, then this is what we’ll do, I’d
stand up and cheer that even if I wasn’t sure it was the best
thing. But the pretending…in the end what is the difference between
someone who pretends to believe the wrong things, and someone who
does believe them. They both end up doing the same thing: one
because he wants to and the other because he’s trapped into keeping
up the pretence.

They heard an engine noise
outside. Mrs James peered through the kitchen window.

-Looks like Matthew is here at
last. Is that your car outside the house? It’s nice, but I expected
something a little grander.

-Yes, that’s one´s mine. I’m not
really interested in cars.

-Well good for you, neither am I
and there are too many of them round here. You should see the speed
that some of the young ones come down here, and hear the noise they
make. Anyway you let Matthew and Amy in and go through into the
front room. Maybe we can talk some more about this later. Or you
can make up your mind that I am a crotchety old lady who you don’t
need to take seriously. I know I talk too much. It comes from
living on my own I’m afraid. If you think I’ve been rude I hope
that you won’t hold it too much against me. You see I like to talk,
but I never picked up the habit of gossip.

David opened the door for
Matthew and Amy and everyone crowded into the narrow hall for a
moment, exchanging greetings.

-Our Brenda´s joining us later,
Mrs James told her son. Just her, not the family.

-It´s going to be a squeeze
then.

Matthew realized that his sister
would have insisted on attending when she found out that Tim was a
guest. She strongly disapproved of him and no doubt felt that her
mother should not be without moral support.

-Oh there´s plenty of room, Mrs
James insisted. The more the better. It´s only a shame Patricia
couldn´t join us then we would have a full house.

-She would have liked to be
here, only she´s busy. A new case, said David.

-Yes, Mrs James replied.

She and Amy made a fuss of each
other and then Amy followed Mrs James into the kitchen saying that
they should leave the boys alone.

Matthew and David stood in the
hall a moment longer. Matthew intended to show David round the tiny
dwelling, which he´d only visited three times before and never seen
beyond the front room, but now he felt a strange reluctance to
begin. Whenever he came home, the house seemed smaller and poorer
in reality than the child´s memory that reasserted itself when he
was away for a while. In fact the place never altered. The rooms
were too small and the light was not good, but it was always clean;
always neat. Nothing replaced only because it was old, but only as
it had become broken or used up.

The house had never been
cluttered with objects or furniture. His mother was not sentimental
about belongings, though she held fiercely to a notion of place. He
had not been able to persuade her to move to a better, more easily
managed place, even though some of the memories of this house must
have been bitter for her. As the years passed, she seemed to be
getting more utilitarian about possessions, taking a pride in
having nothing useless in the house. The children had long been
forbidden to give her Christmas presents; senseless trinkets that
were a waste of money, though his sister’s kids were allowed to
give small gifts to Grandma, most of which were carefully packed
away in the spare room. One or two of these cheap items were on
display, providing ornamentation. Besides these, a few framed
photographs and some books, the house contents were functional

It was an old terrace house, but
it was owned, not rented. Matthew explained to David, as they
inspected the view from the front room window, that the real
decline in the area had come in the streets of former council owned
houses that had been sold at discount to tenants in the eighties.
Salesmen had come knocking door to door, offering cheap loans for
the people to own their own homes. After them came the double
glazing and cladding firms, all offering easy terms.

Once they became homeowners the
former tenants found they were living in the same dwelling, but
their expenses had increased and they were expected to maintain the
property. Some of the new owners moved on; making a good profit but
finding nowhere cheap to move to. Before long, it wasn´t possible
to move on, because no one wanted to buy a house in an area that
was quickly becoming run down: only landlords who were buying up
properties to rent and didn´t mind the condition so long as they
were cheap. The landlords set rents that were more expensive than
the old council lets, and the houses still weren’t looked after.
These days, most of the tenants were out of work, so the council
had to pay the expensive rents as housing benefit. It was progress
of a sort.

The houses in Mrs James’ street
were not like those run down properties, but the rows and rows of
disregarded terraces all around had their effect on the area.
Matthew suggested they should see the rest of the house and then
wander the streets for a while. Again he paused; uncertain whether
he was ashamed of his old neighbourhood, or all of this was just
too personal. He led the way up the narrow staircase that rose too
steeply in the confines of the hall. The downstairs ceilings were
high and the floors were thick. The windows were large and old and
the rooms were draughty. He remembered a home that had been warm
enough, with a family living in this small space. Now that his
mother was alone, she should have somewhere warmer, but Mrs James
claimed that she never felt the cold, or if she did she simply put
on her cardigan.

There were three bedrooms: the
smallest was Matthew´s, where if you were already inside you had to
sit on the bed to let someone in. His sister’s room was a little
bigger, although she was the younger, because it was assumed that
girls needed more space. David commented that his earliest memories
were of a house quite similar, in the time when his mother was
still alive.

Matthew sighed.

-My father´s been dead for
years, at least as far as mum is concerned. He could be dead really
now. No talk of him in this house.

-Aren’t you ever curious?

-What’s the point? What would it
change?

Mrs James shouted up the stairs
to summon them for a cup of tea.

Afterwards they did find time to
walk the local streets. The area was on the edge of David´s
constituency and he was not familiar with the streets, but Matthew
had not seen this as an official visit. He wanted only to remind
David of the sort of place they had both come from, and the hopes
and fears of the people who still had to live in these places.

It was the middle of the day,
with not many people about, but Matthew was slightly shocked, to
see that David slipped easily and quickly into his role as
politician the moment they were in public, stopping people they
met, fixing them with his famous brighter than life greeting,
introducing himself before asking a few simple questions and
nodding wisely at the reply. Some of them already recognized him of
course. He’d been on television, which meant he was famous.

Matthew was more surprised than
annoyed, even after David had them knocking on doors then heard
himself referred as the local boy made good who wrote for the
paper. I should have seen this coming, he realized.