Lifesaving for Beginners

him. She will have asked Petra to mind the children for the day. When they lead him away, he won’t look for her. His eyes, open now, will be trained on the floor.
    He will be a long time getting home.

1 June 2011; Brighton
    Mam says, ‘Milo, you gave me a fright. What are you doing up at this hour?’
    I say, ‘I set my alarm.’
    ‘Ah love, you shouldn’t have. It’s five o’clock in the morning. You’ll be falling asleep in Miss Williams’s class.’
    ‘No way. We’re making papier-mâché masks. If everyone knows their spellings.’
    ‘And do you know your spellings?’
    ‘Course.’
    ‘Sorry for asking, Einstein.’
    The kitchen is colder than usual. Probably because the sun’s not properly up yet. Mam stands at the counter, with her hands wrapped round the mug I got her last Christmas. It says ‘World’s Best Mum’. I tried to find one that said ‘Mam’ but I couldn’t. They probably sell them in Ireland, where Mam is from. Still, she drinks out of it all the time. She says she doesn’t mind about the Mum bit.
    ‘What time is the ferry?’
    Mam looks at her watch. ‘I’d better go if I’m going to catch it.’ Her suitcase is on the floor beside the table. It’s still got Dad’s old leather belt tied round it. She was supposed to get a new case ages ago. She must have forgotton. The sticker on it says ‘Elizabeth McIntyre’ but everyone calls her Beth.
    ‘I’ll put your suitcase in the boot.’
    She smiles. ‘Don’t worry, love, I’ll do it. Besides, the boot is full. I forgot to take out the boxes of flyers I got for the café the other day. I’ll put the case on the back seat. It’ll be grand.’
    I hand her the car keys and look out the window. There have been a few car robberies lately but Mam’s car is still there. I don’t think anyone would steal it. We call it the bananamobile. It’s bright yellow. The writing is pink. Shocking pink, Mam calls it. It says ‘The Funky Banana’, which happens to be the name of Mam’s café.
    ‘So when are you coming home?’
    ‘I’ve told you a million times already. I’ll be home on Sunday.’
    ‘I wish I could come to Auntie May’s with you.’
    ‘There’s the small matter of school, remember. Anyway, you’ll have a great time with your sister.’
    That’s true. Faith doesn’t know how to cook so we won’t have to eat vegetables and things like that. And Rob always gives me money to get DVDs and sweets when they have to go to Faith’s room to talk. They’re always going to Faith’s room to talk.
    Mam puts on her coat and hat. It’s a beret, which is a French word and that’s why you can’t pronounce the t at the end. Her lips are red on account of the lipstick. She doesn’t wear half as much make-up as Faith but she still looks nice. For an adult, I mean. She puts her hand on my head. ‘Don’t forget to brush that mop before you go to school, mister.’
    I say, ‘I won’t,’ even though I probably will forget.
    ‘And you’ve got lifesaving class after school today, remember?’
    ‘My bag’s in the hall.’ As if anyone would ever forget about that. I’m still in the beginners’ class but Coach says if I keep on doing well, she’ll move me up to intermediate next year.
    ‘OK, so, see ya Sunday.’
    ‘Yeah, see ya Sunday.’
    ‘Are you gettin’ too big to give yer auld mam a kiss?’
    Mam’s mad about kissing. So is Damo. He says he’s done it loads of times with girls but I don’t believe him. I mean, he’s my best friend and everything, but sometimes he makes stuff up. His mam says she wouldn’t believe him if he told her the time. And last summer, he said he climbed Mount Everest but when I asked him where it was, he said it was in Spain. Near Santa Ponza.
    Mam holds out her arms. Before I can duck, she squeezes me so tightly I can barely move. Her hair tickles my face. She smells like soap and toothpaste. She’ll probably tell me not to forget to brush my teeth. She kisses me on the cheek and I rub it away with the back of my hand.
    ‘Be good.’
    ‘I’ll try.’
    ‘I mean it, Milo. No messin’ with Damien Sullivan, OK?’
    She’s only saying that because of what happened the last time she went to Ireland. And that was only an accident. Damo’s eyebrows have nearly grown back now.
    ‘And make sure you brush your teeth.’
    ‘I will.’
    ‘I’ll ring you tonight, OK?’
    ‘Promise?’
    She presses the palm of her hand against her heart. ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’