Take Mum Out. Fiona Gibson

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СКАЧАТЬ okay to talk for a minute?’ Kirsty asks.

      ‘Yes, but I’m at Mum’s …’ I fill her in on the rank burger incident, knowing that Kirsty, who hasn’t eaten ‘anything with a face’ for twenty-five years, will be sufficiently appalled.

      ‘And your lovely cardi’s ruined?’ she laments. ‘That’s awful. Ugh. Anyway, this’ll cheer you up. I think I’ve found a man for you …’

      ‘Who is he?’ I glance at the row of industrial beige knickers wafting gently on Mum’s washing line.

      ‘His name’s Stephen and he’s our new dentist …’

      ‘A dentist,’ I repeat.

      She laughs. ‘Keep an open mind. He’s brilliant with the kids – they actually look forward to going now. And I ran into him again at a birthday do Hamish was invited to. You know how most dads tend to hide away in corners at kids’ parties?’

      ‘Tom never went to any,’ I say with a snort. ‘It’s a miracle he actually showed up to Logan and Fergus’s.’

      ‘Well, Stephen was great,’ she declares, ‘getting stuck in with the games, being the wolf in What’s the Time, Mr Wolf? and helping the kids to build a fire at the bottom of the garden. He had them all toasting marshmallows …’

      ‘Wow,’ I breathe, unable to decide whether this is a hugely attractive quality, or smacks of over-zealous and eager to please. Perhaps I’m just not used to party-fabulous dads.

      ‘His daughter Molly’s around eight,’ Kirsty goes on. ‘She’s in Hamish’s class. He’s a single dad, has been for years as far as I can make out …’

      ‘And you’re sure he wants to meet someone?’

      ‘Oh yes. We got chatting and I told him all about you. What else? Um, he’s tall, slim, fairish hair, greenish eyes … he’s just nice, you know? Good-looking but not intimidatingly so.’ She pauses. ‘I did warn him that you’re a pusher of meringues and he seemed fine with that.’

      I laugh, my spirits rising as I fish the burgers from my pockets and fling them one by one, like miniature frisbees, over the drystone wall.

      ‘Okay,’ I say, ‘but can we leave it until the boys are away on their jaunt with Tom? I feel bad, expecting Logan to look after Fergus all the time.’

      ‘Yes, like, about once a month,’ she says, not unkindly.

      I bite my lip. ‘It’ll just be simpler that way.’ This isn’t entirely true; after amuse-bouche night, I need time to rev myself back up into a dating frame of mind.

      By the time I’m back inside, Mum has produced a collection of illustrations showing Scotland in the Middle Ages. The scene – of the boys dutifully studying the creased, fly-speckled pictures that she’s spread out on the table to show them – twists my heart.

      ‘That’s amazing, Gran,’ Logan says gamely.

      ‘Yeah, they’re really cool,’ Fergus adds, stifling a yawn.

      She turns to him and smiles. ‘Before you go, let me have a look at that translator of yours.’ He hands it to her and, while she takes the thing to pieces and prods at its innards, I select a leather-bound book from a shelf and flip it open at a random page:

       With hym ther was his sone, a yong squier

       A lovyere and a lusty bacheler …

      A lusty bachelor! Could a child-friendly dentist fit into this category? We all wait patiently as Mum fiddles about with the gadget’s innards, then finally puts it back together. ‘There,’ she says, handing it to Fergus.

      ‘Is it fixed?’ he gasps.

      ‘Yes, just needed resetting. Go on, ask it a question.’

      He turns to me, perhaps fearful of what it might say.

      ‘Er … “Where is the station?”’ I ask nervously. He taps some buttons. Où est la gare? it chirps.

      ‘Wow, Grandma.’ Fergus grins. ‘That’s amazing. You’re so clever.’

      ‘It really wasn’t difficult,’ she blusters, as if unaccustomed to praise. We say our goodbyes then, all heading outside where I give her a hug; it’s like trying to cuddle an icicle. She is a little more receptive to Logan and Fergus’s hugs, and doesn’t appear to notice their eagerness to jump into the car.

      Before I climb in, perhaps in an attempt to spark a glimmer of warmth between us, I add, ‘Oh, I meant to tell you, Mum – that was Kirsty who called earlier. She’s setting me up on a blind date.’

      ‘Really?’ Mum fixes me with small pale grey eyes. ‘Who with?’

      ‘Some dentist guy.’

      ‘A dentist,’ she repeats, clearly impressed. ‘Ooh, you’ll be glad I gave you that diet then.’ So what’s she implying now? That I have fat teeth?

       Chapter Six

      ‘That was so embarrassing,’ Logan declares as we pull away. ‘Never put me in a situation like that again, Mum. Can’t believe you did that to me.’

      Like I flaunted the use-by date on those burgers!

      ‘Listen,’ I say, ‘I stopped you being poisoned, all right? I might’ve even saved your life. And I ruined my best cardi.’

      ‘That’s disgusting,’ Fergus crows from the back seat, ‘putting cooked food in your pockets. You’d go mad if we did that.’

      Jesus Christ. We reach the main road and I speed up, the cigarette and gin scenario becoming more appealing by the minute.

      ‘There wasn’t an awful lot of choice, Fergus. Anyway, I think you had the right idea. Next time we go, I’ll tell her we’ve gone vegetarian …’

      ‘You mean we’re going again?’ Logan whines.

      ‘Well, at some point, yes. I mean, that wasn’t the last time you’ll ever see Grandma.’

      ‘No, I know that,’ he says gruffly.

      ‘And she loves our visits,’ I add. ‘Being around such vibrant young people brings sunshine and sparkle into her life.’

      Fergus cackles with laughter, and the fuggy weight of the day starts to lift as we head along the main Edinburgh-bound road.

      ‘What would she give us,’ Fergus muses, ‘if we pretended to be veggie?’

      ‘God knows. A tin of potatoes, maybe.’

      ‘You can’t get tinned potatoes,’ he retorts.

      ‘Oh yes you can. СКАЧАТЬ