Chasing Angels (18 page)

‘Ye make it sound that simple!’ Kathy said.

‘It was! A’ Ah hadtae dae was think a bit. If Ah was gonny dae it for money tae support wee Harry, Ah wasnae gonny dae it for pennies. Ah decided tae go upmarket, where the real
money was. Made sense tae me then, still does.’

‘But whit can ye possibly have done wi’ them that was worth big money, Jessie? Ah never understood that.’

‘Och, hen, it’s got nothin’ tae dae wi’
whit
ye dae, it’s
who
ye dae it
wi’
, that’s a’!’

‘How d’ye mean?’

‘Christ, ye’re helluva innocent for a wumman o’ yer age, hen! Look, men’re a’ the same, they’re a’ useless buggers, they never grow up. The secret is in
knowin’ that ye’re dealin’ wi’ weans, so ye treat them like weans. The only difference worth a mention is how much money they’ve got. The wans wi’ nae money dae
it in backcourts or up closes for tuppence, ye don’t havtae spend any time oan them. The wans wi’ money are used tae better things, a bitta comfort an’ consideration, so ye
restrict yersel’ tae them, gie them a comfy place tae perform, put oan the polite accent, an’ there ye are. Ye tell them anythin’ they want tae hear, an’ men’re
no’ big oan imagination so it doesnae vary much. Ye’ve never seen anythin’ that big, never had a better time, “My, but ye’re Rudolph Valentino tae the life!”
– that works a treat the wee-er and clumsier they are, but any auld lie will dae. Men will believe anythin’ ye tell them when it comes tae gettin’ their end away, the merr ye tell
them the merr they’re willin’ tae pay, so the merr ye tell them See?’

‘An’ that’s it?’

‘Och, well, Ah’m bein’ modest here,’ Jessie smiled to herself. ‘Ah was bloody good at it tae, mind ye. Ah musta got some o’ ma talent frae Aggie, only Ah
polished it up a bit, an’ insteada giein’ it away like her Ah made a decent livin’ at it. If the daft sods had any wee special requests they couldnae ask the wife for, Ah was
always happy to oblige. The trick was in no’ laughin’ tae they’d disappeared doon the road.’

‘Like whit?’

‘Well, if they wanted tae lick apple crumble an’ custard aff ma tits, or tae have me dressed up in a gym slip an’ prancin’ aboot wi’ a perra they navy-blue school
knickers showin’, well, Christ, it was better than workin’, wasn’t it? Look at yer poor Mammy, puttin’ up wi’ Auld Con, daein’ a’ they wee jobs a’
they years an’ just gettin’ by if she was lucky, then dyin’ behind they barred windaes. Think for a minute, hen. If she’d been wi’ me, changin’ some daft auld
bugger’s nappy, or leadin’ him aboot oan a dog leash on the best Axminster carpet for an hour, she’d still be here. Would ye no’ rather have had that?’

Kathy thought for a moment. Jessie’s argument made perfect sense; she would rather have had Lily alive and well and with her all these years, she had no doubts about that, but still there
was something that rankled.

‘So ye never actually enjoyed it?’

‘Whit’s there tae enjoy?’ Jessie shot back.

‘An’ ye never liked the men?’

‘Whit’s there tae like?’ she repeated. ‘Ye just havtae get it straight in your mind. They’re a’ useless craiturs, no’ wanna them worth the bother, even
the best o’ them. Can you thinka wan that’s worth wastin’ yer time oan? Big Eddie Harris? Yer Da? Your brother Peter? By Christ, an’ did he no’ shake the dust o’
this place aff his feet sharpish like! Wee McCabe? The Orangeman? He was a nice man but, as Ah said, a big sap, that’s how Aggie managed tae fool him so easy.’

‘Whit aboot Sammy Nicholson, well?’

Jessie laughed wryly. ‘Aye, well, he was ma last chance before Ah took up ma chosen career. Ah thought Ah’d won a watch wi’ Sammy, mug that Ah was. Could Ah pick them, or could
Ah pick them?’ she asked, shaking her head. ‘A’ Ah wanted frae him was a name for Harry an’ me an’ a fresh start, an’ whit does he dae? He canny even walk doon
his ain stairs withoot fa’in’ an’ breakin’ his neck! Talk aboot daft? That’s when Ah decided that Ah’d stick tae the money, the true love game wasnae for me.
Only twice Ah tried it, an’ baith times Ah latched oan tae daft buggers! An’ as for that clown you nearly lumbered yersel’ wi’, that Crawford boy. Christ, Ah was relieved
when ye gave him the elbow, hen! Ah mind thinkin’, “She’s got merr aboot her, but if she doesnae get oota that her life’s goin’ doon the Clyde in a banana
boat.”‘

‘He was quite a nice boy when he was younger, Jessie,’ Kathy replied. ‘Ah knew him a’ ma life. He was loyal and dependable an’ always there.’

‘So’s a mongrel wi’ nae brains,’ Jessie replied tartly. ‘Just throw it the odd stick an’ it’ll keep comin’ back waggin’ its tail, but
ye’ll never get away frae it, will ye? Ye’ll havtae look efter it, because it’s daft, it canny look efter itsel’.’

Kathy laughed; it wasn’t a million miles from her own reading of Jamie Crawford’s character.

‘An’ did ye never notice that his hairline started hauf an inch above his eyebrows?’ Jessie asked. ‘Noo Ah was never much good at pickin’ long-term men, hen, but
even Ah knew that hadtae be a bad sign, that. Ah’m tellin’ ye, him gettin’ that other lassie up the duff was the best thing that ever happened tae you, ye were just bloody lucky
he didnae dae it tae you tae. But ye were aye a sensible lassie that way, naebody could ever point the finger at you.’

Kathy said nothing.

‘Ah’m tellin’ ye,’ Jessie continued, well into her stride, ‘wanna these days a scientist will come up wi’ a way of makin’ weans withoot them, a
wumman
scientist, an’ that’s the enda them. That’s a’ they’re good for noo, think aboot it. Whit else can they dae that justifies their existence?’

Kathy still said nothing. She had never heard Jessie talk as much as this in her entire life, could never have imagined that the desperately stylish figure Jessie had always cut could have had
these thoughts running around her head. Maybe it was the tightness of the metal triangles holding that little velvet hat to her head that had contained them all those years ago.

‘Look at ma Harry noo,’ Jessie invited. ‘Hari-kari hissel’. A bright boy that had the besta education. An’ a nice boy, everybody liked him, naebody has ever had a
bad word for him. Good-lookin’ tae. Remember?’

Kathy nodded; she had always liked her cousin Harry and looked up to him. Harry it was she took her childish scribbling to, Harry it was who discussed books with her. She had had such high hopes
for her cousin; he would become successful, he would be somebody, she had never doubted it. One of her biggest disappointments when she came back was to find this oddly vague stranger who almost
looked and sounded like him, but somehow wasn’t.

‘Ah was told tae expect great things o’ Harry, but Ah always took that wi’ a pincha salt, mind. Ah knew his faither efter a’. Whit’s he daein’ noo? He tells
fortunes!’ Jessie bent over, laughing through her handkerchief. ‘He goes aboot there wi’ his crystal ball, a medallion roond his neck an’ a mysterious look in his eye,
tellin’ fortunes for any numpty daft enough tae hand ower the dosh! They actually listen tae him, they’ve got him booked a year in advance!’

‘Well, he’s makin’ a livin’, isn’t he?’ Kathy laughed back. ‘It’s surely better than endin’ up a redundant boilermaker!’

‘Ye’re missin’ the point, hen. That’s a’ Harry’s good for, that’s a’ he’s ever been good for. Ye know that auld sayin’,
“There’s merr tae him than meets the eye”? Well, ma Harry’s the opposite, there’s a damned sight
less
there than meets the eye! He
believes
that shite he
tells the numpties, he’s no’ just makin’ easy money. That Ah could live wi’, Ah’ve done it masel’ a’ these years efter a’, but the daft bugger really
believes he’s got the second sight, that’s the difference. Ah was never fooled aboot whit Ah did, because Ah’m a wumman, an’ we’ve got oor heids screwed oan.
Harry’s just a man, a daft, stupid man, an’ as Ah tellt ye, they’re that easy tae fool that they dae the job for ye, they fool theirsels.’

‘An’ whit aboot yer son-in-law, Claire’s man? Noo, he’s clever, isn’t he?’

‘He’s a
dentist
!’ Jessie hooted. ‘Whit kinda man’s a
dentist
?’

‘Wan that makes money, that’s for sure!’

‘Aye, Ah’ll gie ye that,’ Jessie conceded. ‘But ye havtae bear in mind that he married ma Claire, a lassie that could bore for Britain. How clever can he be? Can ye
imagine the conversation in their hoose? Nothin’! Bugger all! Silence! If ma Claire ever had a thought in her heid, an’ there’s nae proof that she had, it got lost oan the way tae
her tongue an’ died o’ loneliness!’

‘Och, Jessie! That’s a helluva thing tae say!’

‘It’s true though. The only way Ah ever knew she was alive was if she was movin’. Never said a word in her life. How the Hell she got through her weddin’ vows is a
mystery tae me, Ah think she had a special arrangement tae use semaphore. So
of coorse
she married a dentist. They spend their time muckin’ aboot in folk’s mooths so they canny
talk, maybe they prefer them that way, that’s how they become dentists. But whit kinda man wants a wife as borin’ as ma Claire? Does that no’ just prove ma point?’

Finally Jessie brought the conversation round to the reason for her visit. ‘Ah’ll needtae tell ye this noo, hen, ’cos Ah need a pee an’ Ah canny use anybody else’s
lavvy,’ she said conversationally, as though it were the most reasonable thing in the world. ‘Did ye know aboot the money?’

Kathy shook her head. ‘Naw.’

‘McCabe’s got it,’ Jessie said simply. ‘It was money Auld Con got when yer Mammy died, merr than a bob or two it was tae. Compensation an’ money folk donated tae a
fund that was shared oot between the families. McCabe took it aff him, said it was because he’d just drink it. Auld Aggie told me aboot it at the time. It was aye ma guess that if naebody
brought the subject up, neither would he.’

‘The dirty wee swine!’ Kathy said, outraged. ‘It’s the first Ah’ve ever hearda this!’

‘Aye, Ah thought he probably hadnae volunteered that information tae ye,’ Jessie said darkly. ‘But don’t dae anythin’ daft noo, don’t go rushin’
roon’ there and slappin’ the sly wee bugger oan the ear. Well, no’ unless he pays for it anyway!’ She exploded in laughter behind her handkerchief shield. ‘Ah just
wanted tae make sure ye knew aboot it, we’ve plenty o’ time tae think o’ a way tae sort him oot later. Efter a’, we know somethin’ he doesnae know we know, an’
that’s real power. Noo Ah’ll havtae go, hen, ma bladder won’t haud oot for ever. Harry’s sittin’ doon the stairs in the car waitin’ tae drive me hame, he’s
probably been readin’ palms tae while away the time, or recitin’ wanna his mantras!’ She shook her head. ‘An’ ye’ll no’ believe this, but know whit his
other skill is? He does conjurin’ tricks! Pick a card, that kinda thing, an’ the besta it is,
he
canny see the connection between that an’ him tellin’ fortunes, the
daft sod!’ Jessie cackled loudly behind her handkerchief and Kathy shivered.

‘Whit’s the matter? Somebody walk ower yer grave?’

‘Just aboot, Jessie,’ Kathy replied. ‘That mad laugh o’ yours there, it sounded just like yer demented auld mother!’

‘Aye, well, as Ah’ve often said masel’, parentage will out.’ She winked at her niece. ‘You an’ me’ll talk efter the funeral the morra,’ she said
firmly, turning to go. Then she looked again at the papers and photos on the floor. ‘Ah thought ye’d be reddin’ the place oot. Ah wanted tae tell ye tae look through it carefully,
there might be somethin’ oan paper aboot Con gettin’ the money. Find it, then get ridda the resta that shite, hen. There’s nothin’ there worth sheddin’ a tear ower.
Toodle-oo!’ And with that she was gone.

Kathy could hardly believe it. Ever since the day he had wanted to shoot the horse at Maggie’s fruit stall her opinion of Frank McCabe had been as low as she’d thought it possible
for any human being to go, but there was a depth he would stoop to,
had
stooped to, that was even lower than that. Had that been why he was never away from Con’s house in the months
before he died, in case the old man spilled the beans to his daughter? She had done everything but bodily lift him and throw him down the stairs, but he had stuck it out well, the insults, the
complaints, the abuse. She thought back to the months and years after Lily’s death in the fire, of the constant panic she had felt trying to make sure there was enough money to pay for the
essentials of life, a child thrown into the adult world of paying bills and keeping one step ahead of Con’s drinking. And all the time there had been money. She had always assumed there would
be, though she had never asked. If it existed it would be blood money, and the thought that cash could make up for losing her mother was offensive, so she had never asked. Con would have drunk it,
she decided, and that would’ve been fair enough, but the idea of Frank McCabe taking charge of it and never saying a word appalled her. Better that Con had wasted the lot on booze than
putting it in McCabe’s hands. Well, if he had it, he wouldn’t have it for long, she decided. All through the long, weary months of Con’s dying her one thought had been to get it
over with and to leave this place for ever, but now she knew she would stay here for as long as it took to prise McCabe’s mucky little fingers off the cash he had taken into ‘safe
keeping’ all those years ago. So she spent the entire night searching the house for some sort of proof that it had ever existed, but she came up with nothing. Morning came, dawn broke, and
the hands of the clock on the mantelpiece were creeping towards ten o’clock, the time of the funeral mass. She had a quick bath, made herself toast and coffee and then dressed again in black.
What a joke, she thought, what a hypocritical joke. For this occasion a scarlet flamenco dress would’ve been more in keeping with her feelings, and she could’ve been persuaded to dance
down the aisle too, castanets going like the clappers till they caught fire in her hands.