Being Emily (26 page)

Jas isnae like that.

But even though he can swear to be always loving and faithful, what about me? When we were first thegether I thought I loved Jas and we’d always be happy, but one sight of Amrik and I dumped him. Could I trust mysel no tae rush off with someone else again? I hoped I’d learned something
from what happened with Amrik, but suppose that’s how I am – mibbe I’m just that type of person and Jas isnae. Even though he thinks he only wants me, he’d be better aff wi someone like hissel, someone faithful and loving.

Outside, in the long summer night, the sky was dark blue above the familiar shadowy trees. I reread the words of Cathy’s testimony. Deep, fine, moving words.

But look at what happened in
Wuthering Heights
. Cathy and Heathcliff separated, only reunited in death, and as for Shelley and Mary – they had their share of problems too: unfaithfulness, dead babies, tragedy.

But they still believed, they had an ideal. I knew that however improbable it seemed, I wanted to live my life by an ideal: nae compromises, nae conditions. And I couldnae imagine daeing that with anyone but Jas.

Four Years Later

THE MORNING SUN
flickers through the room, light dappled by the trees outside. I’m alone in the flat, painting the room that’ll be our baby’s when he or she is born in three months’ time. I bend over my bump awkwardly as I sweep the brush near the skirting board to outline the golden fish – I’ve already stretched high tae paint stars on the ceiling though I’ll no tell Jas I stood on a ladder while he wasnae here.

It’s a year since we got married. Doubly married, with Catholic and Sikh services. I got all jittery afore it – I’d lived here by mysel for three years and got used to my ain company – part of me dreaded having tae share my space. But I end up missing Jas when he’s at work, looking forward to his return.

I still love spending time alone, working in the room
I used to share with the twins, now a studio with white walls and shelves full of objects waiting to be turned intae art. Mona can hardly believe it but.
I hate it when there’s naebody
in the house
, she says. No much chance of that in hers. With a bit of financial help from Patric, she and Declan got a big flat where they live with my da, Rona, Grace and the new baby, Kieran. Janice has had a son too – James, who’s three – and Mona watches him two days a week. Rona has a boyfriend who spends hauf his time there and Mrs Kaur and Declan’s family are close by.

When I first came here it was strange for me too, never having lived alone in my life. I loved the feeling of space and light and freedom, but it took me a while tae feel that the house was mine, to reconcile the echoes of the past life with the new one that was beginning tae unfold. Often, when it was very quiet and still, I found mysel thinking of Mammy, and I’d put my heid on the table, greet.

Patric and Amrik are still thegether. Still in London, still moving on whenever the mood takes them. Last year they lived in a Georgian house in the east end – the owner had tae go abroad for a year so Patric looked after it. The guy had done it up and furnished it exactly as it would of been in the eighteenth century with candles for light and a wee bath you filled wi hot water fae a jug.
You have to come and
visit, Fiona – you’ll love it, living like the Brontës
. It looked brilliant wi the candles and wood fires and all that, but of course Patric had showers at the health club and they ate out maist of the time. Amrik, with his disregard for his surroundings, was perfectly at hame there but I think Patric was happy enough tae move on to their next place, a huge modern apartment overlooking the river. He’s still working on hauf a dozen projects at any one time, heavily in demand for all
kinds of styling work, while Amrik continues to pursue his music in his ain way.

Since Art School I’ve divided my time between teaching two days a week and my ain work the rest of the time. I’ve had commissions and sold stuff, even got shortlisted for a big prize. I’ve nae idea how much I’ll be able to dae after the baby comes, and that scares me. But that fear isnae as great as the feeling that overwhelms me when I feel the baby move, delicately, like a butterfly brushing the inside of me.

I find mysel working in pastel and chalk, avoiding sharp objects and harsh colours, gaun quiet and still inside. I know all that will change – I mind all the other babies in the family – the huge fuss and noise and mess each one created. Mona’s unbearable now, lording her superior knowledge of motherhood, phoning me tae chat endlessly about contractions and teething. But it’s cool. She’s my sister after all.

I finish my painting, look round the room. One side is filled with the mural; fantastic fish swim in a silver sea and birds hover round a tree with turquoise and lilac leaves. The other walls are emulsioned in soft white, blank spaces to be filled by the future. Above the mantelpiece there’s a picture of the Guru alongside one I painted, of Our Lady. It won’t ever form part of a show – it’s too personal, hasnae the irony that would make it real art in the eyes of folk like my tutor – but I think Mammy would of loved it.

Mary, in blue jeans and a white tee shirt, is hanging out the washing in her back court. I know she’d of had dark skin and eyes but this madonna has a peelywally west of Scotland complexion and eyes that hover between blue and green. Jesus is dark-skinned, lighter than Jas but no much; he’s haunding her the pegs and they’re smiling at each other.

I wash my brushes in the sink in my red kitchen, sit at the
wooden table with a cup of tea. I imagine Jas in the shop, making up prescriptions with his long, beautiful fingers, speaking seriously to a customer about contraindications, joking with another in Punjabi. I look out the windae at the trees where a bird is cheeping and chattering as birds dae.

Hieroglyphics (2001)
Buddha Da (2003)