Chapter 23
KIKI
Sweat was making Kiki’s T-shirt stick to her back as she gazed at the two rows of houses on either side of the street in front of her. She knew the person she was looking for was in one of those homes. The problem was, she had no idea which one.
She fanned her face as she scanned the street, searching for any kids that were out playing.
In her experience, children, especially the street-smart ones she encountered at school, were the fonts of all knowledge when it came to tracking people down.
Kai Barry in Primary three had given her the inside scoop about what hotel Robbie Williams was staying in last time he came to Glasgow because his auntie’s boyfriend’s cousin’s wife was working there, and wee Kai had overheard their conversations.
But that kind of intel wasn’t available here today because there wasn’t a single child playing in the street.
Not a football match happening. Or a game of rounders.
Not even any older ones hanging around chatting or getting up to no good, like they would have been when she was a kid.
Now, they were probably all inside playing on PlayStations and watching YouTube.
How had this become her day? Just how? How had she ended up standing in the middle of an unfamiliar street, searching for someone she barely knew?
An hour or so ago, she’d thought that the worst thing that could have happened was Ava storming out, but then Mr Tavish collapsing had taken that to a whole new level of panic.
She’d dashed over to him and somehow managed to catch his head right before it hit the concrete floor of the landing, but then she was stuck, torn between holding him and getting help.
She’d called out, hoping that someone in another flat on the landing would hear her, but no joy.
Meanwhile, Mr Tavish’s colour was quite literally draining from his face.
More rising panic. At that point, her training as the official school first aider had kicked in and she’d had an out-of-body experience while following the steps that had been drilled into her by the medical team that toured the schools, making sure the staff were equipped for emergency situations.
Puffing with the exertion of it, she’d manoeuvred around him and checked his breathing. Okay, there was still a pulse, and she could see his chest rise and fall. That had earned a prayer of thanks to whatever twisted universe had done this to the poor man.
She’d laid his head down gently and put him in the recovery position.
Next, she’d raced back into her flat, grabbed her phone, a pillow, a bottle of water and her bag with her front door keys in it, then sprinted back out.
She’d dialled 999, then put the phone between her shoulder and her ear, as she’d gently lifted Mr Tavish’s head again and slipped the pillow under it.
As soon as the emergency services operator had come on the line, she’d asked for an ambulance and described the situation, trying her best to be as calm and specific as possible.
Then she’d waited. And waited. For what seemed like a lifetime.
The clock on her phone had told her that it was twenty-five minutes later when she heard the siren come into the street, and another ten minutes for two red-faced, exhausted paramedics to climb the ten flights of stairs to get to them, carrying a portable stretcher and their heavy bags.
‘Jesus, they didn’t warn us about the broken lifts. I’ll be needing a paramedic myself,’ the older one of the two gents in uniform had declared as he’d come round the corner, before immediately springing into action. In seconds, he was down by Kiki’s side.
‘Can you tell me his name please? Is this your dad?’
‘No, no. He’s my neighbour. Tam Tavish. He lives alone…’
She’d explained exactly what had happened, as they got to work, checking Mr Tavish’s vitals and trying to bring him around. When there was no response, she’d seen the glance that had gone between the two medics and guessed that under their calm professionalism, they were concerned.
‘Ben, let’s get him downstairs quick as possible,’ the one who’d been talking to her said to his younger companion, before turning back to her. ‘Thank God all these young ones are never out of the gym because we’re going to need a bit of muscle.’
He wasn’t wrong. They’d managed to get the unconscious patient onto the stretcher, and then she’d followed them, insisting on carrying their bags, as slowly, carefully, they’d descended the ten flights of stairs, their breathing getting heavier with every floor.
By the time they’d got to the bottom, they were all gleaming with sweat and Kiki could feel her damp hair sticking to the side of her face. This wasn’t going to win any prizes for her best look.
The younger paramedic was the first one to recover his powers of speech. ‘Does he have any family, anyone we can contact? A phone number maybe?’
Kiki shook her head. ‘He has a daughter, but I don’t have her number.’
She’d tried to rack her brain. One of the advantages of working in a school that served this area was that if you cared to pay attention, you learned a lot about the community.
And Kiki cared. She’d flicked through the connections in her mind.
Mr Tavish’s daughter, Tammy Birch, had two boys, Ford in Primary two and Victor in Primary five.
Kiki didn’t know the younger one, but she’d worked in the same class as the older one last year and he’d been best pals with…
lovely wee Rohan Patel. Yep, that was it.
And she’d remembered that the families shared pick-ups and drop-offs for out-of-hours activities because they lived next door to each other.
And the Patels lived on Malcolm Street, because they’d invited the whole class over to celebrate Diwali that year.
‘But I know where she lives, so I’ll go and track her down and let her know,’ she’d told them, as they’d loaded Mr Tavish into the ambulance, before they’d roared off, blue lights flashing.
Malcolm Street. It was ten minutes away, and today of all days, she didn’t need this, but in the same moment she’d known that she’d had no choice.
If there was a small blessing, it was that she’d closed both hers and Mr Tavish’s doors upstairs, she was wearing comfy shoes, and her bag was over her shoulder, so she didn’t have to go back up ten flights of stairs to collect anything.
Instead, she’d turned and marched like an Olympic speed walker all the way to Malcom Street.
As she’d walked, she’d fought to suppress every emotion that threatened to overtake her. Worry for her neighbour. Fury that he was in this situation – an old man alone on the tenth floor of a dilapidated building. And then the fear had come.
Was this her future? Living there all her life until she was old, alone and couldn’t get out because the lift was broken?
Resolve and determination had pushed the doom and gloom right out of the way.
No. She had to get out of that flat. Had to create a different future.
Had to have a chance of the life she might have had if she hadn’t spent the last fifteen years waiting for a man who’d let her down.
And that, she knew, was her own fault. She’d been so grateful for his kindness when they were teenagers, so blinded by love for the young guy who’d been her only friend back then, that she’d excused every red flag that had waved at her since then.
She’d let that happen, made that choice, given him that power, put his priorities above hers.
She’d have liked more children. She used to think that when he came back for her it would be when he was ready to settle down and they’d have one or two kids that looked just like him.
Now she’d settle for never seeing his face again, just as long as he helped to get her and Ava out of this life.
For the tenth time today, she resolved that it was the least he owed her for waiting for him since they were in high school.
Yet again, she’d told herself that when she saw him tonight, she was going to make sure that happened one way or another.
And she was going to suck up the feeling of self-disgust that asking him for something would give her, because that’s what desperation had done to her.
She had to make a better life for Ava, give her the chances that she deserved, and if she had to push her own pride and self-respect to one side to do that, then so be it.
That had been her last thought as she’d turned into Malcolm Street, where she stood now, surveying the empty road and pavements. Not a person in sight. Not a moving car. Not a sound. Until…
A gate creaked open and an elderly lady walking a dachshund came out of a house on the opposite side of the street.
Kiki dashed across the road. ‘Excuse me, I’m looking for the Birch family. Tammy Birch is the mum, and there’s—’
‘Aye, two wee buggers. Ford and… Oh, I canny remember the other one.’
‘Victor,’ Kiki helped, hoping the ‘wee buggers’ was meant in an endearing way, but fearing it might not be.
‘That’s it. Put a football right through my front fence last week.’
Kiki’s gaze went to the large hole in said fence. Definitely not a term of endearment then.
The woman nodded to the house directly across the road. ‘They’re in there. Number 24. And tell them I’m still waiting for a joiner.’
‘Erm, I will. Thanks!’ she said, as she took off across the street, almost getting run over by an ice-cream van playing the theme tune from Star Wars.
It was like a miracle. Doors opened and sound escalated, as dozens of children swarmed from the houses.
And right behind the two familiar ones emerging from number 24 was Tammy Birch, holding her new little one on her hip.
‘Don’t forget my raspberry sauce,’ she was yelling to Victor, who flew past her shouting, ‘Alright, Miss Strang,’ as if it was perfectly normal that Kiki was there.
Tammy at least registered some surprise as Kiki went through her open gate. Kiki knew she wasn’t allowed to have favourite parents, but if she had, then Tammy and her husband, Gary, would be two of them.
‘Kiki!’ she exclaimed, but then, it must have dawned on her that there had to be a reason for the sudden visit from someone she knew was her dad’s neighbour, and that it couldn’t be good. ‘My dad…?’
‘Tammy, that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to upset you, but he’s had a wee turn.
He passed out on the landing, and I called an ambulance so he’s on his way to Glasgow Central.
I wish I could tell you more, but that’s all I know.
He was still unconscious when the ambulance left, but he was breathing. ’
Tammy’s eyes immediately filled and began darting around for the boys. ‘Right, I’ll get there straight away. The stubborn bloody man. I’ve been trying to persuade him to come and live with us for months and he just won’t do it.’
‘I know,’ Kiki said, oozing sympathy. ‘Look, have you got someone who can take the kids?’
She felt a ball of anxiety tighten in her chest as she realised that the only thing she could do was offer to stay here with them. On any other night, she’d do it happily, without a second thought, but why tonight? Why?
Thankfully, Priya Patel had just opened the front door of the next house and had obviously heard the last part of the conversation.
‘On you go, Tammy, I’ll keep the weans. Don’t you worry about a thing.’
She held out her arms and Tammy handed the baby over. ‘Priya, you’re a saint. Let me just get my bag.’
With that, she disappeared inside, then reappeared again just as Kiki had ushered Ford and Victor into Priya’s house, both of them too focused on their huge tubs of ice cream to register their mum’s urgency.
‘Can I give you a lift, Kiki?’ Tammy asked, as she darted down the path towards the car that was parked outside the gate.
Kiki thought about it. Glasgow Central was in the opposite direction of the Academy, and she didn’t want to take Tammy out of her way.
‘It’s fine, thanks – I’m happy to walk.’
‘Okay, well, thank you so much for coming to tell me. You’re a gem, you really are.’
‘Let me know how he is.’
‘Aye, I will do,’ Tammy promised as she jumped into her Kia Picanto and took off.
‘Do you want to come in for a cuppa?’ Priya asked, but Kiki shook her head.
‘Thanks, Priya, but I’ve got somewhere I need to be.’
As she headed down the path and out of the gate, Kiki weighed up her options.
Before Ava had stormed out, she’d shouted that she wasn’t going to go to the Academy tonight, but Kiki was pretty sure that she knew her daughter, and if she was right, Ava wouldn’t miss it.
It meant far too much to her for that. She quickly checked Ava’s location on their family app.
Yep, she was at the Academy. That meant there was only one place that Kiki wanted to be too.
They’d been explicit on the tickets that if you weren’t there for the show starting at 8 p.m., then there would be no entry after that. Something to do with the documentary team filming the screening.
She checked the bus app, but even before she saw the confirmation of the schedule, she knew it wouldn’t get her there on time.
It was going to have to be a taxi. She opened her taxi app on her phone.
Not a single vehicle within two miles. Not a surprise.
The schools had broken up two weeks ago, so this was prime holiday time.
Plus, it was too hot to be stuck in a car all day, so she didn’t blame the drivers for taking advantage of one of the few days of Scottish summer.
She put the address in anyway and was informed it would be a twenty-five-minute wait.
No good.
She checked the maps app on her phone.
Thirty minutes’ walk.
She only had twenty-two minutes to get there. And no, there would be no time to pop home and change into the outfit she’d planned to wear tonight. Or fix her face. Or do something with her hair.
Should she just go home, make herself presentable and then go along to the Academy in time for the show ending? Hopefully, there would still be time to see him then, to speak to him, to tell him exactly what she needed from him.
But… the truth was that, right now, the far more important issue was finding Ava and checking she was okay.
Making things right with her girl. Sharing her daughter’s experience of watching the show, cheering her on if she got some screen time and cheering her up if she was disappointed because she didn’t.
That was all that mattered now.
In fact, Ava was all that mattered every day.
And that’s why Kiki pulled the strap of her handbag over her head, so that it was across her body and her hands were free, tucked the hem of her dress up into her knickers and began to run.