Southsiders (7 page)

“Bye, Jesse,” he said, but the phone had already gone dead in his hands.

He fell back into the bed and stared at the ceiling. Listened to the clanking of cutlery and plates downstairs. Heard Izzy talking to Rose, as if she was giving a running commentary on the setting of a table. It was nice that she’d started doing that. Talking to Rose. Maybe Izzy was finally getting the hang of being a mother.

Ray listened to her babbling on. Let her words wash around him and soothe his soul. Closed his eyes and drifted away into a pre-dinner nap, dreaming of pizza and curly fries and a diner in Hemsby where Elvis was about to make a very special guest appearance.

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T
he sun shining through the windows of the living room made the place bright and cheerful. It settled some of Ray’s ‘first day at work’ nerves, even if it was only a visit to the site and a chance for him to meet some of the staff. He’d been worried about turning up with the wounds on his face and being laid off before he’d even been given the job for sure. There was still that tricky interview business to get through yet, and the police checks. It sure helped that Cliff was doing the interviews for his post and, as far as he could recall, none of his misdemeanours would be on his criminal record any more.

Rose lay on her back kicking around her arms and legs while Izzy dabbed at Ray’s face with some kind of powder puff that was softer than the proverbial baby’s bottom. It completely took his mind off having to go out. He loved the feeling of Izzy being close. Wanted to reach out and put his arm around her waist, to pull her in to him and kiss her senseless. Instead, he just watched her shifting in and out while he took tiny peeks down her blouse whenever he thought she wasn’t looking. It was driving his nuts nuts.

“There you go. Would you like to take a look?” He thought she’d never ask. Course, she hadn’t meant what Ray might have hoped. She went to the wall and took down the mirror. Ray watched her slender hips and tight behind while she was facing the other way. Her being so close and yet so very far away forced a sigh from his body. “Here,” she said, holding the mirror out to him.

He took a look. Liked what he saw. “Izzy, you’re a genius.” She really was. The bruise on his cheek had almost disappeared under her layers and the raw-looking scar on his ear had diminished into a neat red mark that might have been there for years. His hair was immaculate and his eyes looked sharp and alert.

“Now all we need is to see if that suit looks as good on you now as it did in the shop.”

She’d helped him pick it out at Oxfam. Made him try on three of them before finally deciding on the one he took home. It was the first item of Marks & Spencer clothing he’d ever owned. He was clearly going up in the world.

He went upstairs and changed. Sprayed a blast of aftershave into the air and walked under it so that it settled all over him and gave him the subtle scent of a man who took care of himself.

He took the steps downstairs two at a time. “Da da,” he announced when he entered the room.

Rose seemed to smile up at him from the floor, though it might have been a bubble of trapped wind.

Izzy clapped her hands and walked over to straighten his thin, blue tie. “Will you look at you? All done up like a Christmas dinner. You polish up pretty well, Ray. You’ll be giving Cliff a run for his money as the most handsome guy at work now, you’ll see.”

Which didn’t seem fair given that it was Cliff’s shirt and tie that he was wearing and his cufflinks that were finishing off the whole look. It seemed like less of a compliment the more he thought about it.

*

C
liff stretched out his arm as if he was introducing his kingdom. He looked the part, too, with his suit and gold ID badge pinned to his breast like he’d been awarded some kind of important medal.

The kingdom wasn’t what he’d expected either, it being an old shipyard and all.

Ray should have known, though. Same had happened in Leith. The polishing up of the old buildings. The demolishing of any warts on the landscape. The clean, new developments that spoke of money and taste.

Even so, he had to hand it to Belfast. It won hands down.

Ray took in the expanse first of all. The sense of space that he always got when he was down by the water. Next, he zoomed in on the statue in front of them, the mermaid stretching her arms out and looking to heaven as if she could see a better life ahead of her. If only.

Jewel in the crown was the museum itself. The shape was a wonder. Like ships chopped up and welded together. The panels shone in the low sun of the early afternoon. It was imposing and beautiful. Man made yet suggested divine intervention of sorts, like a cathedral built to house the beating heart of a city.

“You’ll do fine here, Ray.” Ray wasn’t so sure he’d fit the mould. Touched his cheek gently to make sure the make-up was still there. He couldn’t tell for sure, so checked his fingers and saw a trace of the peach-coloured powder on his tips. “Come on in. Have a look around. I’ll introduce you to a few folk later.”

It made Ray feel small being close to a building like this. As he went in, he imagined he was being devoured by some great creature and would never come out alive.

A young woman, smart and clean-looking, smiled their way. Helped Ray to acclimatise.

“Emma, meet Ray.” Emma reached out a hand and Ray shook it without thinking. “He’ll be joining us in the New Year.” It made Ray sound important. A new cog in a wheel, without which the whole operation would grind to a halt. Which was utter crap. Being the seven-pound-an-hour operative of the shipyard ride was hardly an important role. Ray’s ears warmed with embarrassment.

“Welcome aboard,” Emma said. The lilt of her accent melted a layer of Ray’s nerves away. “I’ll look forward to getting to know you.” These Irish girls were something else. She’d barely spoken, but he could have sworn that she was given him the come on. Unless, maybe, she’d noticed the make-up, assumed he was gay and had completely relaxed because of that. He shook his head and got rid of the thought.

He followed Cliff as he waved his way past the ticket collectors and then noticed him turn round and deliver a wink to Emma before disappearing into the exhibition. Dirty sod. The girl was years younger than them. And she was gorgeous. What the hell would she have been doing with an old guy who was on his way to going to seed? Ray stiffened with anger on Izzy’s behalf and then throbbed with jealousy on behalf of no one but himself.

From there on, there was a constant assault on his senses. There were more people to meet and more images to take in than he could have imagined possible. It was nothing like any of the museums Ray could remember visiting as a kid. There was nothing dry or boring about it. It was superb. Mind-blowing. Completely amazing.

Ray noticed how happy the staff all seemed. They were always looking out for people to help. Always offered their services with a smile and a little bit of charm. Seemed to enjoy what they did. He pictured himself in their place, all smart and useful. Proud of himself. Of his worth. A valid member of the human race again.

*

A
t the beginning of the shipyard ride, Ray had to pay special attention. He watched as the stewards marshalled the queue and set families off in their individual cars. They reminded him of the dodgems, only bigger and for more people.

The routine was the same. A bit of a script. Three in the front and three in the back. Belts on. The press of a button and they were off.

Cliff looked over at the tall man when everyone in the queue had finally gone on their way. “One for me and my mate, Ray,” he said. The bucket pulled up and the pair got in and went through the routine of belts and sitting comfortably.

There was a small jolt and off they went to find out about how the they’d built the giant Titanic all those years ago.

Not that there was much room left in his brain for absorbing more facts. His senses had been assaulted by the old films of Belfast, the interactive floors, the pistons and steam of the engine room, the ghost-like images projected somehow into the rooms. He couldn’t hold on to much more.

“You’ll have to do a bit more than just get people on and off the rides,” Cliff shouted. The noise was intense. “And it’ll be busier when the schools are in again, so there’ll be no danger of you getting bored. You’ll need to do the whole customer service thing. ‘The bollocks’ as we like to call it. And there’ll be training for the emergency and fire strategies. Can’t do anything these days without a nod to health and safety.”

Ray wanted his friend to shut up. Being crammed in the small space with the bangs and the shouting and the sense of impending doom that the whole place was heading towards was setting him off. It was like his blood was rising in temperature. Starting to simmer inside. All ready to come to the boil. He gripped tightly to the front of the cart. Screwed his eyes tight for a moment but couldn’t keep them closed.

“If there are any breakdowns, you’ll be in charge, but that shouldn’t happen. Anyone faints or collapses, that’s on your shoulders.”

Right then his shoulders wouldn’t have supported an inflatable doll.

“So let’s learn some history, shall we?” At last Cliff was going to shut up and let the experts do the talking.

Ray heard all about the riveting teams. Saw them cramped up in tiny spaces hammering against the steel hull. All the while the spaces around him seemed to be closing in. Pinning him down and removing the oxygen from the air. All he wanted was for it to be over. For him to get out and to get along to the safety of his room back at the house.

Lights flashed. Hammers banged. The car jolted into action. Ray’s blood bubbled inside. His head floated away from his shoulders like someone had filled it with helium. His eyes closed and everything went dark.

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“T
hat’s my boy,” Cliff said when someone turned the lights back on.

There was the smell of mothballs in Ray’s nostrils and the guy who’d sent them on their way, William according to his name badge, was waving something in front of his nose.

“You’ll not be needing to write this one out,” Cliff said to William. “This one’s on me.” There was another of those winks. “Jesus, Ray. I thought you were a gonner.”

The two men put their arms around Ray and guided him out of the cart. “How about a coffee?” Cliff asked and they headed off slowly in the direction of the café.

He sat at a table and his friend brought over a large mug of latte. It was a relief when he went over to speak the girl behind the counter and left Ray alone. Allowed him the space he needed to get his shit together.

The view was spectacular and the sweetness of his latte cheered him a little.

If he’d learned anything from his visit, it was that things hadn’t changed much over the years. The world was still split into classes. First, second and third. Not that it mattered much which you were in. Disaster was a great leveller. Death came to all. There was no escape from that.

There was only one man on the Titanic who Ray really felt for. The Captain. The man with the stiff upper lip. Edward John Smith. A plainer name would be difficult to come up with. And him looking a lot like Captain Bird’s Eye, a man who conjured up the image of fish fingers for a whole generation.

In the end, it all came down to Smith. Rested upon his shoulders. And when he’d done all he could, he needed to be there to go down with the ship when he could have pulled rank and been in the first lifeboat to leave his vessel. Poor sod. Worse, he had to come up with some famous last words. “It’s every man for himself now and God Bless you,” wasn’t quite as memorable as it might have been.

A wind of melancholy passed through Ray, chilling his bones. Wasn’t it like that for everyone in the end? Aren’t all humans the captains of their own little vessels? Steering them around rocks and rugged coasts? Avoiding icebergs and enemy craft?

Sure, there were lighthouses along the way. Beacons of hope that came in the form of friends, lovers and children. Flashes of inspiration from the likes of Presley, Vincent and Holly. Stretches of calm waters and stop-overs on faraway lands. But there could never be enough of them. Everyone meets their iceberg one day. Is scuppered by a torpedo or turned over by pirates. It’s just the way it is. Everyone’s just a captain going down with their ship, standing on board and wondering where it all went wrong. Waiting to be swallowed by the icy darkness of the ocean.

Christ, he was turning into a morbid sod.

He gulped down half the coffee. Spooned froth from the latte into his mouth. Felt something of the comfort of the caffeine and the sugar, the warm milk thawing his heart.

Outside, the sun appeared from behind a cloud. Flashed its light over the water of the old slipway. Turned the world over just like that.

“C’mon,” Ray told himself, determined to get a grip.

He took a bite of the biscuit that came with his drink.

Thought about what it would be like when he was working here. How well he’d fit in. What it might be like to earn a living again.

Thought of Izzy and her touch. The music in her voice. The colour that was returning to her cheeks.

Decided that the world, for now, wasn’t all bad. That with a good wind and a sound compass, he could navigate the storms and find safe harbour. And that he should enjoy the view along the way before it was taken from him.

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T
he two boys sat under the arches at their usual bench. Archie was working his way through his second Twix of the morning when his friend finished telling him about the money and the social worker. Jesse had decided not to mention anything about speaking to his dad and lying to him about the way things were working out. Truth was, Jesse liked the new order. Things seemed more stable and safe than they’d ever done and he hadn’t wanted to throw any spanners into the works at this early stage of life without parents. All he had to do now was to keep things settled, even in the knowledge that it wasn’t going to be easy.