The State of Me. Nasim Jafry Marie
male sea horses give birth by spurting out hundreds of bright red eggs, and that they are antisocial and don’t like their neighbours.
At the weekends, I would sit clamped against the radiator or lie on the couch while Sean and his friends watched videos. Sometimes Ivan was there. The highlight of Saturday was watching Blind Date. I would fantasise about being chosen and worried sick about being sent on a date where you had to walk a lot.
Sean said I should write to Jimmy Saville: Dear Jim, Please can you fix it for me to be healthy? I’m twenty-one and live in Scotland.
I could see myself sitting in the television studio, with the medal round my neck, grinning idiotically at the audience. Rita and Nab would run on with tears in their eyes, thanking Jim for the miracle.
Sometimes, after school, Sean brings through the magnetic chess set. He sits on the bed and lays out the pieces. Pawns are always getting lost in the blankets. Helen’s never really liked chess apart from moving the horses in L-shapes. She doesn’t try and Sean wins every game, but it passes the time.
Back to see Bob.
He looked more plastic than ever. I told him how I was feeling.
Chin up, he said. We’re doing another trial in a few months with evening primrose oil.
Goody, goody gumdrops, I said. I can’t wait. (Into myself.)
Afterwards, we went to the hospital canteen. Rita was dying for a cigarette. She’d started smoking again. While she queued for tea, I asked the old man at the next table if he needed help opening his sandwiches. One of his eyes was sewn shut and he had golliwog badges on his lapels.
That’s very good of you, hen, he said.
I opened the cheese and pickled onion sandwich by stabbing the cellophane with the end of a spoon. Thank you very much, hen. You’re very kind, he said.
I liked feeling useful.
Rita came back with tea that was far too strong, and synthetic cream doughnuts. She asked me if I still felt like going to Next.
If you think we can park really near and if I can sit down in the shop, I replied.
I loved shopping with Rita. She was like a dragon slaying away all the junk to get to the bargains. I wanted to buy a dress for Ivan’s graduation. I’d seen a sleeveless polkadot dress in their catalogue.
On the way to Next I kept thinking about the wee man and his golliwog badges.
Imagine him saving up his marmalade labels and sending away for the badges, I said to Rita. He must have had the whole collection on his lapels.
Poor old soul, she replied. He probably lives on his own if he had no one at the hospital with him. It doesn’t bear thinking about, does it?
No, it doesn’t, I said.
Square window. June 1985. Helen’s in the dining room, looking at the birds in the garden.
| stranger | What are you doing? |
| helen | I’m watching the birds. The bastards wake me up all the time and I can’t get back to sleep. |
| stranger | You look very sad. |
| helen | I am sad. It’s Ivan’s graduation today and I felt too ill to go. And it’s raining. |
| stranger | It’s a shame you can’t be there. |
| helen | He’ll be so handsome in his graduation robe and I should be with him, wearing my polkadot dress – afterwards, they’re going to the Ubiquitous Chip for dinner and I’ll be stuck here counting rooks and crows. |
| stranger | What’s the difference between a rook and a crow? |
| helen | A rook’s a kind of crow – a gregarious Eurasian crow to be precise. They nest up high and are very noisy. |
| stranger | How do you know? |
| helen | I saw it in a documentary. |
| stranger | So what’s a raven then? |
| helen | It’s a large carrion-eating crow. |
| stranger | I see…so when will you see Ivan again? |
| helen | He’s coming here at the weekend to watch Live Aid. |
| stranger | At least that’s something for you to look forward to. |
| me | Rez and him are going to Greece for two weeks in September. Then he’s going to Dundee for a post-graduate course. I’ll never see him again. |
| stranger | I’m sure that’s not true. By the way, how’s the blanket? I see you’ve been crocheting. |
| me | It’s only half finished and the baby’s due next month, but it’s boring as well as tiring. I was going to knit something, but I couldn’t be bothered with all the ‘knitting two backwards’ stuff. Crocheting needs less concentration. |
| stranger | It’s good to have a project, it gives you a goal. |
| me | I suppose so, but white gets grubby so easily. It’ll look second-hand. |
| stranger | Well, it’s the thought that counts, and you could always wash it. Oh, and before you go, I was just wondering, what’s a jackdaw? |
| me | A jackdaw’s a small grey-headed crow, noted for its inquisitiveness. |
I wish a plane would crash into the house when everyone’s out. Rita and Nab have got insurance. They’d be okay. I heard Rita crying in the toilet last night.
I love the sun. It burns up the pain in my muscles. I’ve been lying in the garden all week. Brian can’t stand the heat. My God, he says, it’s like Alicante here today. I’ve painted my toenails red.
Back to see Bob.
He wanted me in his evening primrose trial. I should have been honoured – evening primrose oil costs a fortune. Bob explained that it contains an essential fatty acid called GLA that can inhibit inflammation, boost the immune system and improve circulation. Essential fatty acids have to be taken through diet as they are not manufactured in the body. He told me cheerfully that evening primrose oil had helped people