the confines of her school. The staff supervised behaviour in the playground and would never allow any bullying to take place.
Jessica felt this was not exactly true. There had been times when she’d gone to the school gates at play time with a cake or a bag of sweets for the twins and she had not seen any sign of any teachers.
Something had to be done. She couldn’t go on watching the children be scared of going to school and seeing their obvious distress and unhappiness.
She eventually spoke to Brian about it on his next leave.
‘There doesn’t seem to be anything I can do,’ she told him.
‘Darling,’ he said quickly, ‘of course there’s something.’
‘What?’
‘You can bring them out to Saudi and stay with me and be together all the time as a proper family. There’s a nursery school and a primary school. There would be a lot fewer children, compared with the big school they attend here. The children all love it in the compound. I’m sure Tommy and Fiona will love it too.’
Jessica was speechless. She had never considered uprooting herself and leaving everything she’d been used to all her life and going to live in a strange, far-off land.
Now, for the first time, she began to consider it.
10
She couldn’t do it. Yes, something had to be done. Each day, she’d take the children to school and then wander around the Calton area treasuring every sight and sound and smell. The streets were so lovingly familiar to her. She’d toddled around them when she was little more than a baby. She remembered being fascinated by the escapologist setting up shop on the road, being locked into thick chains, and then getting out of them. She remembered Saturdays and Sundays when crowds streamed into the Barras. She remembered the smells. There were hot roasted chestnuts and salty-smelling whelks. You could get a little pin with the whelks to pull them out of their grey shells. There was the tangy smell of old cheeses – big slices of strong Scottish cheddar and racks of mature yellow and cream-coloured cheeses, some the size of small barrows. The smell of poultry too – rows of birds hanging up, plucked and ready. The fusty smell of potatoes from shopping bags. Pungent sweat squeezing from innumerable armpits. The shouts of stall holders and shopkeepers. The babble of passers-by, the laughter.
Jessica crushed through the crowded streets, her mind overflowing with memories. Soon she found herself outside the drop-in centre and decided to visit Evie. As usual, she had to climb over drunken bodies slumped in passageways. Sad songs slurred from loose mouths. As usual, she marvelled at Evie being able to spend so much time in the place. On this occasion, she was lucky in the fact that Evie was able to go out for lunch.
‘We’ve got enough staff now to take over for an hour and help at lunch time, so each of us can get out if we want to.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Jessica told her. ‘You need to get right away for a decent break. Come on, I’ll treat you to lunch at the St Enoch Centre.’
They chatted about Evie’s work on the way to the St Enoch Centre and when they reached it, Jessica said, ‘Did you know that this is the largest glass-roofed structure in Europe?’
Evie laughed. ‘Still the Glasgow historian? I agree with what Brian said, Jessica. You would have made a marvellous tourist guide.’
‘He wants more from me than that now.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘He wants me to go out to Saudi and that awful compound place and live with him and the children there.’
‘The compound might not be as bad as you imagine. And he’s not wanting something from you. He wants to be fully committed to you, share his life with you and the children all the time. Not just for a few weeks a year. Why did you say he’s wanting something from you?’
Jessica shrugged. ‘My life here and all my memories, I suppose.’
‘Well, I know how much you’re attached to the Calton. I can understand that.
Jessica felt this was not exactly true. There had been times when she’d gone to the school gates at play time with a cake or a bag of sweets for the twins and she had not seen any sign of any teachers.
Something had to be done. She couldn’t go on watching the children be scared of going to school and seeing their obvious distress and unhappiness.
She eventually spoke to Brian about it on his next leave.
‘There doesn’t seem to be anything I can do,’ she told him.
‘Darling,’ he said quickly, ‘of course there’s something.’
‘What?’
‘You can bring them out to Saudi and stay with me and be together all the time as a proper family. There’s a nursery school and a primary school. There would be a lot fewer children, compared with the big school they attend here. The children all love it in the compound. I’m sure Tommy and Fiona will love it too.’
Jessica was speechless. She had never considered uprooting herself and leaving everything she’d been used to all her life and going to live in a strange, far-off land.
Now, for the first time, she began to consider it.
10
She couldn’t do it. Yes, something had to be done. Each day, she’d take the children to school and then wander around the Calton area treasuring every sight and sound and smell. The streets were so lovingly familiar to her. She’d toddled around them when she was little more than a baby. She remembered being fascinated by the escapologist setting up shop on the road, being locked into thick chains, and then getting out of them. She remembered Saturdays and Sundays when crowds streamed into the Barras. She remembered the smells. There were hot roasted chestnuts and salty-smelling whelks. You could get a little pin with the whelks to pull them out of their grey shells. There was the tangy smell of old cheeses – big slices of strong Scottish cheddar and racks of mature yellow and cream-coloured cheeses, some the size of small barrows. The smell of poultry too – rows of birds hanging up, plucked and ready. The fusty smell of potatoes from shopping bags. Pungent sweat squeezing from innumerable armpits. The shouts of stall holders and shopkeepers. The babble of passers-by, the laughter.
Jessica crushed through the crowded streets, her mind overflowing with memories. Soon she found herself outside the drop-in centre and decided to visit Evie. As usual, she had to climb over drunken bodies slumped in passageways. Sad songs slurred from loose mouths. As usual, she marvelled at Evie being able to spend so much time in the place. On this occasion, she was lucky in the fact that Evie was able to go out for lunch.
‘We’ve got enough staff now to take over for an hour and help at lunch time, so each of us can get out if we want to.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Jessica told her. ‘You need to get right away for a decent break. Come on, I’ll treat you to lunch at the St Enoch Centre.’
They chatted about Evie’s work on the way to the St Enoch Centre and when they reached it, Jessica said, ‘Did you know that this is the largest glass-roofed structure in Europe?’
Evie laughed. ‘Still the Glasgow historian? I agree with what Brian said, Jessica. You would have made a marvellous tourist guide.’
‘He wants more from me than that now.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘He wants me to go out to Saudi and that awful compound place and live with him and the children there.’
‘The compound might not be as bad as you imagine. And he’s not wanting something from you. He wants to be fully committed to you, share his life with you and the children all the time. Not just for a few weeks a year. Why did you say he’s wanting something from you?’
Jessica shrugged. ‘My life here and all my memories, I suppose.’
‘Well, I know how much you’re attached to the Calton. I can understand that.
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