Handstands In The Dark: A True Story of Growing Up and Survival by Godley Janey

Author:Godley, Janey [Godley, Janey]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9781448117543
Publisher: Ebury Press
Published: 2011-11-30T05:00:00+00:00

16

Que sera sera

WHEN ASHLEY TURNED three, Sean developed various worrying ailments, like flu, food poisoning and the migraine headaches he’d had all his life but much worse. He got very thin and weak. Lots of people thought he had AIDS; this was, after all, the East End of Glasgow in 1989. It was really hard on me, as I had to work double shifts to make up his hours; I became exhausted trying to do everything in the Weavers and looking after the flats day to day. Ashley was juggled between my Dad and my sister Ann. Eventually, after months of worsening illness, Sean went into hospital for a lumbar puncture to drain spinal fluid and he also had a brain scan. The hospital tested him and assured him he did not have AIDS, but the scan revealed he had had a brain haemorrhage. I felt terribly guilty; I had wished him dead so many times.

Sean became even more ill, so weak that he could hardly walk or talk at all; it was as if he were turning into a vegetable. Ashley understood what was happening and was stricken with fear. She was a real daddy’s girl and did not want him to stay in hospital. She once refused to leave his bedside and screamed as she was dragged off by the nurses. My Dad visited Sean daily. Old George never went once; I explained what was wrong with Sean by phone and he never asked again, not even for any progress reports. As I did not drive, while Sean was ill, Sammy drove me to the cash-and-carry warehouse to buy goods for the Weavers. But, one night, Sean’s brother Stephen drove me because he wanted to borrow Sean’s car afterwards. When we got to the till, I pulled out Old George’s cheque book and signed a cheque for the alcohol and food.

‘Is that my da’s cheque book?’ Stephen asked me suspiciously.

‘Aye,’ I said irritably. ‘It’s the same cheque book I’ve been signing for the last seven years. Why?’

‘Does my da know you sign his cheques?’ Stephen asked, even more suspicious.

‘Aye he fucking knows!’ I snapped back. ‘OK? It is his pub. I have worked there for the last nine years. We use his cheque book. We give him the books to check. What is your fucking problem? D’ye think if I wanted to steal with your da’s cheque book I would buy booze and fags when I don’t drink or smoke? Oh and, by the way, booze and fags happen to be what we sell in the fucking pub. Ye think that’s a coincidence?’

The till girl carried on putting goods in bags without looking at us; she knew me because I came in and signed a cheque every other week.

Sean had just come out of hospital two days before and was lying at home in bed, trying to do all the books and deal with the cashflow while he struggled with his brain and lung disorders. His speech was slow and he felt constantly confused.

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