March 20th, 1990

March 20th, 1990

At home

Woke up with Jon on the phone.

“McGarr! How the devil are you?”

“Great thanks, how are you?”

“Fantastic. Hey listen, what are you doing this coming weekend?”

“Eh, it’s only Tuesday, or wait is it Wednesday?”
He laughed. “Occupational hazard there, I see. It’s Tuesday.”

“Regardless, my point was that it’s only the beginning of the week.”

“Yes, but I just wanted to try and catch you before you make any plans.”

“Uhm, eh, let’s see, I don’t think I have any plans yet but that might…”

“Yeah, I know that could change…”

“That’s not what I…”

“Welll, keep me in mind and if you don’t fancy driving I’ll come and pick you up.”

“Oh, ok thanks.”

“Just give me a shout when you know, ok?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll let you know when…”

“Excellent, bye.”

“Bye,” I mouthed but he was already gone.

“Who was that?” Mum asked coming in from the garden.

“It was Jon.”

That got her attention. “Oh, how is he?”

“He’s fine.”

“What did he want?”

“Mum!”

“I’m just asking,” she said. “You know, you’ve been awful crabbit the past couple of days, is something or somebody bothering you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Well you know you can tell me if something’s upsetting you.”

“I know.”

“So you’re just being a wee moaning face then?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I guess so.”

Mum brushed her fingers over my cheek as she passed me. “Well just so you know, it disnae become you.”

“Mum,” I said, just as she was about to go into the kitchen.

She turned around. “What?”

“What are you doing today?”

“Uff,” she sighed. “I was hoping to get a few wee hours in the garden but even though the sun’s oot the wind would cut you in two.”

Truly, one of my favourite Scottish expressions.

“Do you fancy going for a drive?”

“Aye, where?”

“Heathrow.”

“For what?” she asked.

“Staff travel. I want to buy a ticket.”

“Where’re you thinking of going?”

“Paris.”

“Uff don’t start wi that you’re no…”

“Mum! I’m twenty-three! The same age dad was when I was born.”

“Och, when you say it like that I cannae…”
“So, as I was saying,” I said, as slowly and precisely as possible. “I’m going to buy a ticket to Paris.”

Mum started to shake her head but promptly stopped. “And when are you thinking of going?” she asked, in a similar vein.

“Tomorrow.”

 

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