“Look Aggie, look whit she's da'in noo.” Jessie tugged at the lace curtain, beckoning for Aggie to join her at the window. Aggie duly shuffled across the room, still slugging down her flat rum and coke from the night before.
“Aye, Jessie, it's a pure disgrace that.” Aggie shook her head. “Yon laddie is far too guid fur her.” They huddled together at the small space at the curtain. “Shouldnae be allowed.”
They continued to stare at their sister Moira, who had now somehow got herself a younger boyfriend. Who would have thought it?
“How kin he be interested in her? She's that fat and ugly.” Aggie wrinkled her nose.
“Aye, and ye canny understaun' a wurd she sez.” Jessie was in agreement. “She's pure mental.”
“Whit does he see in hur?” asked Aggie with genuine amazement. “She's boggin'”
“Ah don't know, man, but you shid go oot ther and introduce yersel.' If he's that blind he might go for you an' aww.”
“Aye, Jessie. Yer right. Ah'll go oot an' see him the noo.” Aggie straightened her jumper and headed out of the door towards Moira and the young man, who appeared to be unloading something heavy from the car into Moira's mother's house.
“Whit's that ye've goat?” Aggie cocked her head to one side, eyeing up Moira's friend. The young man smiled awkwardly, slightly confused.
“Oh hello, Aggie.” said Moira. “It's a lawnmower for your mother. We are going to mow the lawn.”
“Whit ye da'in that fur? It's no' yer lawn.” Aggie began to get angry. “You think yer runnin' an old fowk's hame?”
“No, actually the grass is kind of long and needs mowing.” Moira was unsure why this would be a problem. Moira and James continued to lug the large box towards the house.
“Ye shouldnae be da'in that.” Aggie continued. “An' whit's it goat tae dae wi' him?” She motioned roughly at James.
“Well, actually he is helping me with the lawnmower. It is heavy. Would you like to help me with the lawnmower? It is for your mother.”
“Naw, naw, it's no' ma joab. Ah'm too tired.” Aggie ran for the safety of Jessie's house.
“I see I got the one with the looks then.” said James.
“Seriously? They've been saying how ugly I am all my life?” Moira looked cross. “Are you trying to butter me up for any particular reason?”
“No, I had a look at your mother's family pictures when you first brought me.” James was surprised. Moira seemed so confident?
“But they're thin. I stayed in for years because they kept telling me what a frightful sight I am?” Moira was genuinely confused.
“I've got news for you. They were jealous.” James did not smile as he knew Moira would not take him seriously if he sounded remotely flirtatious. It was part of the game with Moira to see how long you could avoid annoying her by sounding too frivolous, or too complimentary, or not asking her for stuff. She was a very strange girl. In order to score a date with her, you would have to ask her to come and paint your front door, or cut the hedge, or mend the hoover. She was always otherwise busy with her mother or her elderly friends who lived nearby.
“You are just after something, aren't you? The biggest slice of cake.” Moira started to laugh. “I have to mow the lawn, and then I have forms to fill in.”
“No, not really, although I might seduce you with tea later.” James knew that he was allowed a brief smile at this point, since she was laughing.
“I'll need to check on mum first. We've been gone for thirty minutes.”
“She was asleep, she will be fine.” James reassured her. “I will assemble the lawnmower whilst you check on her.”
“Probably quicker if I do it. I ought to be used to it by now, if you don't mind making the tea? Moira stopped to catch her breath as they lugged the mower down the garden.
“It's interesting how they don't want you to have any help, or do any gardening, but they don't seem to want to do it? How do they expect it to get done?”
“They don't understand things like that. It's probably best not to think about it. Their level of twisted logic defies belief.” Moira looked pained. “It's a bit embarrassing really. My brother is even worse. He was waving a sheaf of letters I had written at somebody whilst shouting about my not communicating the other day. I've never seen anything so immensely stupid.”
“Do you think we should buy them a box set of 'How I Met Your Mother?'” James laughed. Moira's hatred of that show was legendary amongst shy carers locally.
“Don't buy them anything, they would just complain.” Moira laughed. “Their lives are one long series of complaints, strung together with attempts to bully you.” They finally reached their destination with the mower. “Tea please.”
“Coming right up.” James went to make the tea whilst Moira darted upstairs to see her mother, who was still asleep. As she returned to the kitchen, James handed her her tea. “Is there any chance we could go out to see a film later?”
“Sorry, no there is nobody to take care of mother.”
“Your sisters are right there?” James looked incredulous.
“You must be joking. There is no question of them doing that. Their visits are on their terms. It was actually mother that made sure of it.” Moira frowned.
“Why?”
“She didn't like clever people. I think she thought she could get them to bully it out of me.”
“You're kidding.”
“No, she actually said that. She waited until I was over 40 to actually tell me though. There was possibly a measure of selfishness in it. As long as I was miserable and alone she would be looked after. She is quite wicked, you know, but she makes up for it in other ways.” Moira remained remarkably impassive.
“How?” James was faintly horrified. Moira seemed so assertive.
“Well she is very good at giving opinions when you're making artwork or decorating. She has fairly good taste, actually. She's been extremely lucky you know. Her mother, my father and I – all pretty much the same grumpy, helpful, anti-social character. She has always got away with murder as long as she gives opinions when you are in the middle of something that requires focus and dedication. She is also naughty and fun when she is not making horrible comments or inciting a pair of stupid bullies.” Moira got up to go and assemble the lawnmower. “Will you please listen out for mum whilst I mow the lawns?”
“Sure, I will go and wake her with tea if you want?”
“Thanks, she likes boys.” Moira smiled. “I will be back in an hour.”
An hour later, Moira returned, breathless and tired. “I will do the hedges next, I think. More tea?” She went to put the kettle on.
“Let's do the hedges today, and then tomorrow we can sit and talk to your mother whilst you sew. Then you can cook.”
“Thanks, I think.” smiled Moira. “Sure.”
The following day, Moira took her chainsaw and her hedge trimmer and dealt with all the hedges, unwanted trees and laid down weedkiller whilst James stuffed the trimmings into bags to put in the car and take to the local dump. This was not his usual idea of a date, but Moira was worth it, because Moira was comforting and capable. They also had long conversations about nothing, which made for easy company. Maybe he would one day distract her enough to kiss him? As they took the car out to the dump for the fourth time, the curtains again began to twitch across the road.
“Aye, he stayed the night. We kid complain about that.” Jessie's face contorted into a mask of rage. “She shid be asking oor purmishun, durty bitch.”
“Aye, Jessie. Wid ye like me tae make the call noo?” Aggie's face was gleeful as she picked up the phone.
“Aye, we kin watch oot fur the Social Wurk tae hammer oan the door. She wulnae be happy then, wull she?” they giggled, not realising that they were wasting valuable time they could be spending somewhere other than up their own backsides.
“We are going on holiday next week, Aggie.” Moira's mother looked at Aggie. “No need for your visit.” she really required a heart of stone to even say this. Usually their holidays were taken between Aggie's visits, so that she would not make a complaint.
“Jessie won't like it.....” Aggie looked alarmed as she knew Jessie would be furious and probably take it out on her. Her accent was noticeably clearer when she was not with Jessie.
“Jessie has plenty of holidays, and she doesn't ask permission.” Moira's mother looked steely.
“OK, but don't say I didn't warn you.” Aggie shook her head. She texted Jessie immediately, who demanded to know where they were going. Moira was to be forced to ask their permission. This was not acceptable.
“Oh, I don't know?”smiled Moira's mother mischievously. “Moira hasn't told me yet?” She knew exactly where she was going, but she didn't feel like telling her daughters. Sometimes she didn't want to come back. She was not sure how she had managed to produce such dull people.
“That's terrible.” Aggie was shocked. “How can you trust her?”
“I'm still alive and in my own home, dear.” Moira's mother shot Aggie a nasty smile. “That's how.”
Her divide and conquer policy was still working, so she was safe.
Moira threw the bags into the car that night.
“Now?” Moira's mother was surprised. It was a late summer evening.
“Yes, of course now. There is no need for an early start when we can have a late night instead. It is not as if we do much sleeping anyway.” Moira picked up her mother and slid her into the back seat.
“Where are we going again?” Moira's mother had forgotten.
“Dumfries tonight. The Solway tomorrow. Let me just pack this wheelchair.” Moira loaded the heavy wheelchair into her car.
They arrived in Dumfries at midnight, found a hotel and booked in. Moira's mother got a cup of tea and a biscuit, and Moira went to the 24 hour garage and found a salad. The next day they would be looking at a house in Galloway.
The house was huge and needed a lot of work, which filled Moira with joy, and her mother with dread. Why her chosen companions were always obsessed with work and building things she did not know, but at least they seemed to look after her well. She sighed when she saw the size of it.
“At least it has a nice view, but it's a lot of work, Moira.”
“No fun otherwise. I just have to see a new kitchen for my heart to sink.” Moira had the slightly crazed look of joy on her face that her mother knew only too well from her own mother and husband. “We can do it together.” her mother perked up, one of her more confusing features.
“Yes, we could! I love that floor!” she looked at the Victorian tiling in the hall.
“And the little cherub heads! And the butler's pantry is original! They even have a proper bath!”
“What sort of damage?” Moira's mother, in her late 80s and in a wheelchair, started to make plans.
“Well, a lot of swearing at the top of a ladder, a new heating system, a new roof I think, because this clown has used modern materials and the water is pouring in, but it's probably listable, in which case we could get a grant?”
The home's owner was a local hospital consultant. “Yeah, state of the art breathable roof.” he said “You two don't look like property developers. Isn't this house too big for you?” Moira's mother was already shaking her head.
“You can't put modern breathable roof materials on a Victorian house, no.” the tiny woman shook her head. “Are you leaving the lampshades?” her eyes glimmered as she negotiated for original Victorian fittings.
“It's actually a little smaller than the house we've just done.” Moira looked apologetic. The consultant was suitably shaken. His son laughed, as he was twenty and had just realised that his father did not know everything.
“Um yes, you can have the lampshades.” he looked chastened. “The roof has been a problem for two years.”
“Timbers are probably soaked then.” Moira looked worried. “OK we will have to do sums, and get back to you.” She got up and took the wheelchair. “OK mother?”
“Yes, I like this one.” she looked happy. “Jessie can't argue with it and it's actually harder for her to get to!”
When they got back to Glasgow, they found a note from the Social Work Department to say that they had had another call from Jessie, complaining that she should have been asked before they went away. Aggie had also complained, on the basis that she had turned up for a visit that had already been cancelled.
The Social Workers visited the following day, to interrogate Moira and try to force themselves into the house. Moira declined, and her mother asserted her capacity in no uncertain terms so that they could not be disturbed. They breathed a sigh of relief as they shut the door.
“I guess we are safer here.” Moira began.
“I like it here anyway, and you've done an awful lot of work.” Her mother looked apologetic, as she knew they had been endangered again.
“God knows what they would do if we actually moved.” Moira sighed. “Why are they so stupid and nasty?”
“I don't know.” her mother looked gloomy for a second. “What's for dinner?”
“Well I thought you might enjoy a nice fresh Trout Almondine, lemon beurre blanc, some broccoli and new potatoes, and then a lovely fresh peach mousse with raspberries? Does that sound OK?”
“Oh yes.” her mother cheered up. “And then I can go to bed until our next holiday.”
Moira laughed.