First Person (9 page)

I
hated my
brother for
many years. Anger at the manner of his leaving grew into my despising him. It
took years before a day could pass and not think of him. Now he is back and I
cannot think of anything else.

He
sits to the right of me at the dinner table. Food cools in front of me. Cutlery
scrapes on plates. Mary sits to the left of me and compliments my wife’s
cooking. Beside her Katie chats away to my wife about her day at school. Ethel
listens to our daughter but her attention is on me. James, so tall now at fourteen,
sits between Ethel and his father, my brother. I say nothing to my brother and
have said little since he arrived yesterday. He has taken it for granted that
he can stay here in our parents’ house and I am powerless to prevent it.

“How
was your day?” he asks me. “Was the shop busy?”

Father
would have fawned over him, had he been alive, and made an elaborate show of
engaging with him about the business. I reply, “Just the usual. How was your
day?”

He
hesitates. “We visited Mum and Dad.”

I
take a sip of water and think of the churchyard; bare trees shivering in the
wind as the sun disappears early. Katie stops chattering away and everyone
becomes quiet. I glance at my brother. I can see the memory of our parents has
hurt him though he tries to cover it with a pale smile. I think of him heading
north, with our father not long dead, and my heart hardens again.

After
our meal, Mary insists “you men go to the pub”, seemingly oblivious to the
awkward situation. My brother and I exchange hesitant looks but eventually we
agree. Even he thinks it will be difficult for us to be alone. He kisses his
wife on the forehead as she does the dishes. We leave Ethel fussing over
helping Mary while James teaches Katie a card game in the front room.

The
pub is a short walk through the village and it faces my shop. Barrett’s Grocers
was opened by our father in 1918 when he came home from France. He worked there
until his death at the end of the war; our mother having passed on a few years
before. When I got demobbed, I took over and married Ethel who worked in the
shop. The shop is quiet and dark as we pass by.

We
enter the warm air of the pub. From behind the bar, Harry sees us and lines up
two pints of export without needing to ask. He is not surprised to see my
brother and their conversation shows they must have met again earlier, perhaps
today. I pay for the drinks, of course, and we sit down at a small table. We
are the only drinkers so far. The clock behind the bar ticks and the fire
crackles. Steam vents out a large piece of coal. My brother raises a glass to
“being back home” and we sip our drinks. Our local Constable steps in rubbing
his hands. He nods a greeting to us but is interested only in letting Harry
know he is on his rounds. He will be back later to ensure closing time is
observed.

My
brother tells me how much he has missed the place and how good a pint you get
here. I agree about the pint and say, “No decent pubs up north, then?”

He
laughs lightly. “None as good as this.”

I
wonder at that moment why he ever left and why he convinced Dad to give him
cash instead of the shop. Inwardly, I shake my head for his taking Eleanor and
James with him. I watch him run his hands across the pub table, quietly
admiring the wood. Another man might think me jealous of his skill as a joiner
but really I seethe at his constant commentary on timber related topics.

The
outside door opens, in walks Jack, and I immediately feel better. He is a big
man with a ruddy face and an easy grin. He spies us straight away. “I didn’t
believe it when I heard.” He comes quickly over and shakes my brother’s hand
vigorously. He slaps me on the shoulder and sends me to the bar to get some
more pints. I’m happy to do it. Whilst Harry pulls the pints, I hear them
catching up on old times. Jack’s laugh is infectious.

Sitting
back down with them, we each have a fresh pint. Jack leans his chin on his
hands which grip the curved handle of his walking stick as he listens to my
brother talking about Eleanor. Jack says, “I’m so sorry to hear about that,
fella. She was a lovely girl.”

We
all agree to that and, a little misty eyed, we raise our glasses to Eleanor and
think of her laid to rest in her home town in the north. To take our minds off
it, I ask Jack if he’d only just finished work, what with it having been dark
for a few hours. Jack takes his cap off and rubs his head. “I came off the hill
at about three. I’ve been up at the big house reporting to his lordship about
the state of the herd.”

My
brother makes the sound of a sheep and we burst out laughing. I realise it is
good Jack showed up. We should try and get his brother Frank to join us and the
Four Musketeers would be back together.

“And
you’ve got a new wife I hear.” Jack punches my brother on the shoulder.

My
brother blushes and looks away. “Mary.”

We
kid him around a bit, saying she’s not much older than James, and ask him why
she couldn’t find some other old geezer to marry. I say, “And her father ran
you out of town, did he?”

Jack
thinks this is hilarious. My brother laughs nervously and for a moment I think
this is what happened. My brother says quietly, “He’s a kind man. He gave us
some money for the journey, and the bus fares of course.”

“Right,”
says Jack. “And how long have you been married?”

My
brother sips his beer, and peers up at the ceiling, making a show of working it
out. “Ten months, no sorry, eleven.” He looks me straight in the eye as he says
it. My blood freezes. I suddenly remember him looking Dad straight in the eye
and swearing it was he, and not I, who had left the shop unlocked. He took the
punishment that night instead of me.

“And
a baby on the way?” asks Jack.

“Due
in two months,” says my brother. He looks Jack in the eye.

To
change my own mood, I dig him in the ribs. “She looks ready to drop any day,
son.” We all have a laugh about it and enjoy the rest of the evening,
reminiscing about our old haunts. I watch my brother laugh at Jack as a story
unfolds. His eyes crinkle around the edges like our father’s did when he
listened to the wireless. I am reminded of his warm laugh, tickled at the shows
he loved.

Katie’s
pony is stabled outside the village. Twinkle the pony has warm lodgings next to
two other horses and my daughter does well to keep up with the chores, better
than  expected. We take our visitors out there for some fresh air. Mid-winter
skies threaten rain over steep hills which surround the village. Small white
dots of sheep sprinkle the dark grass and I can see two tall figures moving
between the animals.  “Is that Jack and his brother?” I point up at them.

My
brother stops and peers up. “I think it is. Are they coming down the hill?”

“I
hope so,” I say, slapping my brother on the back. “We’ll meet them here.”

The
girls walk ahead; Mary with her hands on her back, almost waddling. James has
stopped beside us. His father is very proud of him. “Tell your uncle what you
told me.”

James
lights up. He has no interest in woodwork like his father but he loves fishing.
“There’s boats at Loch Fyne that are always needing fixed. Dad could do the
repairs on them while I sell bait to the fishermen.”

I
smile at my nephew’s enthusiasm. He’s got it all worked out. Wondering if my
brother is considering this, which of course means him moving away from here, I
see that his jaw has fallen. James is still chattering away. His father’s face
is ashen and he starts to move away from us. I look to where his attention his;
the stables. Mary is bent over double and my daughter is clearly panicked.
Ethel is looking this way and she screams out my name. My brother is already on
the move and I clap James on the shoulder for him to follow as I race after
them.

When
we reach them, Mary is in obvious distress. She is crying and clutching her
stomach. Ethel is grasping her shoulders. “Give me a hand!” Clumsily, my
brother helps Ethel move his wife inside and they lay her down on the straw.
Without needing to be told, Katie leads Twinkle out the way. I stand around not
knowing what to do. Ethel gives me an angry look as if I should already know
what’s needed.

“I’ll
get the doctor,” I say and run across the yard into the office where I know
there is a phone. I get the girl to call a doctor and hurry back. Mary is on
her back with her knees up. Her distress is eased and my wife smiles gently at
her, stroking hair away from her damp forehead. Ethel glances at me and with
her eyes tells me to take James and his dad out the road. I tap them on the
shoulder and lead them out.

As
we step away, I hear Mary say to Ethel, “He’s a good man. Most others
wouldn’t-” My wife shushes her gently and we don’t hear any more of the
conversation.

The
yard has a high fence and I place my forearms on the top rung and my foot on
the lowest. My brother does the same while James kicks a stone about, bored
already. We watch the two figures make their way down the hill. My brother
says, “I think it is Jack and his brother.”

I
nod. “They’ll be here soon.”

“Do
you think they can see it’s us from up there?” He is clearly worried. I catch
sight of Katie across the yard. She is in her riding clothes and waves at me as
she leads Twinkle across the cobbles. I wave back,  listening to the familiar
sound of horse hooves on cobbles.

“You’ve
always had a good sense of what’s right and what’s wrong,” I say to my brother.

He
pushes himself back from the fence and looks at the ground. His hands remain on
the spar and he breathes out. “Sometimes you leave things behind for a reason.”

“And
sometimes you bring them here for a reason.” I’m watching closely for his
reaction.

He
looks away, unable to make eye contact. “It’s not that long ago that a girl on
her own would be taken up in front of the Kirk Session to explain herself.”

I
turn my head away from staring at him, to give him the room to talk, though he
says nothing more. Our mother told us about these poor girls, abandoned by men,
begging for money from the great and the good of our village, their shame for
all to see. I say, “What’s right and what’s wrong.”

My
brother relaxes on the fence again. He breathes out in agreement. “And some
things are right to do, even when you don’t need to do them.”

We
stand silently for a few minutes. The figures on the hill are definitely Jack
and his brother. We can make them out now. Each is wearing clothes suitable for
the outdoors, flat caps on their heads, balancing their movement downhill with
crooks; tall canes with curved handles made from the horn. I scratch my head,
“The four musketeers can wet the baby’s head tonight.”

My
brother chuckles. “We’re hoping for a boy, you know.”

“Another
one? Give me daughters any day.” I can hear a car approaching, recognising the
sound as that of the doctor’s.

He
laughs again, freely this time, though he steps back from the fence and puts
cold hands in his pockets. “We’ll call him after dad.”

I
smile and rub his shoulder. “Joshua. Good choice.”

A
black car enters the yard and I raise a hand to the driver and point over to
the stables. When it comes to a stop, out jumps the doctor and he rushes in
through the open door. My brother and I go over to see if there is anything we
can do, though I imagine Ethel shooing us away. Up on the hill, our friends
come closer and wave at us, completely unaware of what’s been happening as they
descend. Jack holds out his arms in greeting, his crook pointing to the sky. I
can’t hear what he’s saying but he’s trying to tell us about something he and
his brother have seen. James has found a stick and is leaning on it as Katie
canters her pony out the yard and onto the bridle path. I hear Mary cry out in
pain.

“
T
hey’re bringing their
own squad in for Japan,” I
explained to them. “Even after all that travel, the tendering process showed it
to be the cheapest option.”

My
phone rang and I excused myself to Gillian standing just off camera. We had to
direct all our conversations to her for reasons I didn’t fully understand;
something about how it would look on TV. I turned away to answer the call but
the camera guy shifted his position. This call had to be good news. Placing my
free hand into the big yellow hi-viz jacket I’m wearing, I was very aware of
the camera crew bundled into the site kabin listening to everything. I spoke
quietly but there wasn’t too much to say.

I
put my phone away and looked at Gillian. The sound guy listened in on
headphones to a fluffy microphone he held just under the camera. His eyes were
always unfocused, just listening, while he adjusted controls on a box attached
to his waist. The camera guy twisted the lens on his shoulder mounted camera.
After a pause, Gillian asked, “Did you get it?”

I
suddenly felt quite exposed, knowing that moment would be broadcast into homes
around the country. “Nah, he said the interview was good but they decided to go
another way.”

“Will
there be other promotions coming up?” Gillian asked. Her head leaned forward.
She knew this was going to be a good moment for them. They followed me through
the application process, from applying online to the interview to the
disappointment. This was perfect for them, and for her.

At
that time, I didn’t know if there would be other supervisor jobs coming up. At
that point I didn’t really care. “Time for me to go to work.”

They
followed me outside. How the camera guy got down the stairs with his face
pressed up against the camera I do not know. The sound guy was just the same,
eyes unfocused, listening all the time. They must get taught it in college or
something. I took them up to the gate where Harry was directing the traffic. He
waved at us but because he hadn’t signed the agreement papers to take part in a
reality TV show, he never got to speak.

Gillian
said to me, “So tell us about what’s happening.”

“This
is the old JEC building, which produced super-conductors up until the end of
last year,” I said. “They’re pulling out of this site and a supermarket is
moving their operation from across the motorway. Once demolished, a new
distribution centre will be built right here. Our job today is to keep
everything moving.”

I
helped Harry with the trucks until they had all left the site, taking the last
of the people and equipment. Once that was done, we close and lock the gate.
“It’s all part of a day’s work,” I said to Gillian and we were off again. I led
the camera crew back to the kabin, leaving Harry at the gate, and climbed the
stairs. There was a small wooden walkway which we would watch the action on. We
were outside the so-called ‘Hot Zone’ and everyone organised themselves to get
a good look at the plant.

Gillian
said me, “You were telling us about the squad from Japan.”

Now
prompted, I gathered myself together. “Yes, they’re specialists apparently. The
factory is to be flattened to allow the new build to go up.”

We
were on eastern edge of the old factory site. It was breezy outside though not
cold. I pointed out some of the features of the site. Almost half a mile long,
the factory was three blocks on either side of a taller admin block which still
contained the company logo: JEC. Addressing Gillian, as I had been instructed,
while the camera found its own view, I said, “Our job today is to facilitate
the security. They’ll take care of the rest.”

I
pointed out that all traffic was being redirected and an exclusion zone set up
so the camera crew would be the only and best way to see the action. At the far
side of the site, two huge boxes, almost as large as the factory blocks, sat at
the ready. The camera guy focused in on them and I went quiet. In the distance,
men and women moved about purposefully around the giant boxes. They were
dressed in white overalls with the hoods up. Their faces were covered with
white surgical masks.

“Is
that the Japanese team?” Gillian asked me.

“It’s
the support team,” I explained. I flicked a wrist out and squinted at my watch.
“And we’re nearly about time.”

From
a box on the walkway, I pulled out safety goggles and passed them around. The
crew were already wearing their hard hats and hi-viz vests but they needed the
eye protection. Once everyone had the glasses on, we waited. I thought about it
being a Thursday and how the Evening News would be out soon with that week’s
jobs. I needed something which didn’t include standing about outdoors. My mind
wandered briefly to what Agnes would think of me stuck on these shifts for a
while longer.

“There
we are,” I said, hands still deep in coat pockets. Beside me, the camera guy
adjusted his stance again. The sound guy listened more than watched which was
difficult to get used to.

At
the far end of the site, some of the support team began to open one of the
boxes. “Huge clasps are operated remotely,” I said and pointed to a small
figure with a tablet device in his hands. “Then they just open the doors.”

Sure
enough, more support workers pulled at the door until it swung open. Gillian
melted back a bit. I bounced on my toes to keep the circulation going. Inside
the massive box all you could see was a dark shadow. Something stirred. The
support workers stood around for a moment, waiting for something. Despite their
distance from us, I could make out one of them checking his watch. One of the
others peered inside and impatiently beckoned whatever was inside to come out.
A few moments later his voice could be heard, a barked command in Japanese.
Then it flew out its box.

“Wingju,”
I said. I couldn’t help smile.

Giant
wings unfolded and a massive butterfly fluttered out of the enormous box. Waves
of thrust rocked a few of the support workers but they didn’t fall over. The
camera guy shuffled his feet as he changed his position and adjusted his lens
to get a better view. With a wing span of around ten metres, and a length of
twelve, Wingju rose into the air. I spoke quickly, “Essentially, a tullerva
species butterfly, much larger of course due to the radiation, her long body
and small head, for her size-”

“How
do you know so much?” Gillian shouted, sounding panicked.

I
frowned and pulled back my chin. “Every schoolboy knows about this.” She looked
at me blankly. The camera guy briefly looked away from his lens to frown and
shake his head. Even the sound guy focused on me for a moment. I tried again.
“Surely? Tokyo 1956?” They shook their heads and I shook mine back.

Overhead,
Wingju gently winged over the site. I could see fine detail in the patterns on
her wings. She was beautiful, I thought, more so to see her here than on old
news footage. Light filtered through her wings. I felt myself in her shadow as
she flew overhead, surveying the scene.

“What
now?” Gillian was truly panicking. Her voice had lifted in volume. She pointed
at the second box. A technician operated the tablet and two massive clasps
opened.

I
laughed. Had I got that other job, I realised, I would miss days like these.
Support workers hauled back the door of the second box, which was much bigger than
the last. I tapped the camera guy on the shoulder, pointed to it, and said to
Gillian, “Ganjuki.”

She
stared at the second box. The support workers stood respectfully back. There
was no exhortation from any of the crew, no need to coax this next creature
from its box. They waited. From inside the box there was movement. Out of the
shadows emerged Ganjuki, a twenty metre tall dinosaur. With slow steps, the
giant beast of green skin entered the daylight of Central Scotland. His chunky
legs sat atop massive clawed feet. He was balanced by a large tail, which
slithered behind him. He stood upright with comical short arms. His head seemed
small for his enormous frame. Angry eyes flashed above vicious teeth. Steam
vented out nostrils as he snorted forward.

“Oh.
My. God.” Gillian stepped forward to see better. The cameraman adjusted his
position to see round her. I knew what was going to happen next.

Ganjuki
stopped and looked around. If he saw his support workers, he did not
acknowledge them. He seemed to crick his neck, as if the long journey had made
him stiff and he pulled in a massive breath. The support workers pulled on ear
defenders. Ganjuki paused and then bellowed out an almighty roar. It thundered
out across the site, shaking the factory buildings. We felt the shockwave as
our wooden walkway rattled. It was a shout of rage, free of being imprisoned in
ice for millions of years, dislodged by a nuclear test. Ganjuki, the creature
who destroyed Tokyo in 1956 then became a hero when he defended it with Wingju
against the Terror from a Thousand Fathoms. They saved the whole of Japan that
day and became poster images for every school kid on the planet. Ganjuki roared
again, and rolled his head on his shoulders, a sound which echoed across
millennia, this lost soul, the last of his kind.

As
the roar faded, I admit to punching a fist in the air. “Now you’ll see
something.” I grabbed the camera guy, bundled him around, and shouted directly
into the camera. “Kids! You are about to see something awesome. Hit record.
NOW!” I felt triumphant, released from the worry of finding another job, the
pressure of being on a stupid reality TV show, and the strain of long shifts. I
felt the beating of my heart match the beating of wings in the air as Wingju
responded to the call.

The
butterfly swopped back overhead. Her massive body swelled with an intake of
air. There was a pause and then Wingju breathed out. Fire poured out of her,
and dropped onto the factory building, immediately setting it alight. This
ignited something within Ganjuki, in the same way it did against the Terror
from a Thousand Fathoms, and he stomped towards the building. His clawed feet
smashed into the bricks, tearing them apart.

It
took them almost a day to destroy Tokyo in 1956, so it took Ganjuki and Wingju
a much shorter time to level the old JEC plant. When they were finished, the
whole site was flattened. Bulldozers and diggers would only need to prepare
foundations for the supermarket distribution centre. Nothing to clear up and a
fraction of the cost of a traditional demolition operation meant everyone was
happy. Spent from pouring fire upon the land, Wingju floated serenely into her
box, ready to sleep again. Ganjuki needed more persuading. A small herd of cows
was ushered into the box. The old dinosaur, cut off from its own time, and its
own kind, reluctantly entered the box to have its dinner.

I
breathed out a huge satisfied sigh. “That was awesome,” I said to Gillian. As a
boy I had always dreamed of seeing these creatures, an event like this. Because
of a twist of fate, I was able to stand there and watch. An amazing experience,
for sure.

She
looked at me with nothing but shock on her face. The camera guy stayed looking
into his viewfinder and the sound guy just looked into the air and listened.
Gillian said nothing. She was unable. Like those people to first spot Ganjuki
emerging from Tokyo Bay, she was shocked, traumatised even. It was her job to
keep her TV show going. However, I guessed it was up to me and I had just the
sort of thing the TV people could use. It would show some drama on their show.
“Right, we need to get the night shift covered. I’ll make some calls. Coming?”