Edinburgh UNESCO City of Literature: Story Shop 2011

Marianne Paget

Story Shop

@ 4pm in the Spiegeltent

Celebrating the short story and its compact beauty, Marianne was the sixteenth reader in our daily showcase of the up-and-coming writers living and working in Edinburgh today.

Marianne's world revolves around people. She cares. At home. And at work. You'd think that she would use her writing to get away from it all. Instead, her work explores the world of the people 'she does it for' even further. Her son loves her, and would keep her forever, but has already observed that "well, I can't, because you're going to die (DS, aged 4)". It seems she has passed on some of her powerful observation-genes.

She loves writing, and is particularly intrigued by writing for the screen, both for kids and adults. Although she hasn't been published yet, she did just win the 2011 Edinburgh Writer’s Club Novel Competition and has been involved in a production for the screen - co-writing shooting and editing a short film in 48 hrs. Where most of our Story Shoppers face a baptism by fire, Marianne has already read for a Book Fest audience - last year, when she read The Oblation in the book shop tent. That was an occasion she dreaded, but also gave her the confidence to do it all over again, this time on an even bigger stage. It was a pleasure to introduce her to the Spiegeltent's audience.

Biography

Marianne Paget has worked in local government to promote regeneration, community safety and more recently, sustainable development. She writes stories and scripts which often reflect her interest in social justice and she is currently working on her first novel which explores the impact of family breakdown on young carers. She lives in Edinburgh and has two children.

Full House a short story byMarianne Paget

My peg is number four because D is number four in the alphabet and D is for David and that’s me. I don’t want to put an ‘out’ sign on my peg until I go out because that’s lying. I just watch the clock until it’s time to go. The clock says ‘five-ten’. I don’t go out until it’s five-twelve. The bus is at five-thirty-eight. That’s confusing because the bus number is just five and eight, fifty eight; there’s no number thirty in the middle. The clock still says ‘five-ten’. I keep watching it. I don’t want to be late. Five-eleven! Nearly time. I put my jacket on and I flat down my fringe with my hand so no one will see me much. I always keep my fringe long so no one will see me much even though Karen always says "why don’t we get your fringe trimmed a wee bit, David?" I keep watching the clock. I don’t want to be late. Five-twelve! I grab an ‘out’ sign and hang it on my peg and shout, "forty one, time for fun" even though Karen keeps telling me not to shout in case it upsets the others.

The bus stop is two and a half streets away, that’s six hundred and eighty two steps. It would be less steps if it was just smooth pavement but its all squares and I have to stand my foot in the middle of the squares so I don’t stand on the lines. And forty three of the squares have cracks in them so I have to make my foot go squint to fit in them or even just go on my tip-toes sometimes. Karen says I’d get to the bus stop much quicker and I wouldn’t have to leave at five-twelve if I would just step on the lines and cracks. I don’t like thinking about stepping on the lines and cracks.

Girls are coming towards me, all loud and laughing. They’re taking up the whole pavement. I can’t go round them ‘cause then I’d have to take more steps and that would probably make me late for the bus. They’re awful loud and laugh’y. I’ve got a not-good feeling. I bend my head down to hide even more behind my fringe. It works good ‘cause I can’t really see the girls now. But they’re getting louder and louder and putting me off my counting so I have to count out loud to make sure I don’t forget the number of step I’m on. "Twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine..." and then I’m tripping over the squares fast, trying not to touch my feet on the lines and feeling where someone’s shoved me hard in the arm and a girl’s laughing and saying, "broke yer’ back ya’ weirdo". I just manage to stop and not stand on any lines. And my heart is bumping and bumping. And I didn’t manage to keep counting all of the steps. But I don’t want to be late - so I’ll just pretend it’s the next step I’m on. And I’m angry at the girl so I shout the number out loud - but it comes out the fun way, "dirty Gertie". The girls’ laughing stops. One of them steps right in front of me. Now it feels like I’m balancing on a rock in the middle of a river, like when Karen took us on Outdoor Pursuits to make us get confidence and independent. I can’t turn round because there’s not enough room in front of me to balance because that’s where the girl is standing. "What d’you jist ca’ me?" she says. Her face is all squashed up, especially her eyes, like she’s trying to look at the sun, except there’s no sun today. I just want to get counting to get to the bus stop. The bus is at five-thirty-eight. I start counting again but I do it properly this time. "Three and zero, thirty," I say and stop for a bit in the middle to let the rhyme happen before I finish off, "dirty Gertie". It’s like the shove in the arm; all back to front. First, I’m flying in air and then I feel the pain in my nose and then I remember her fist coming towards me. I’m rolling on all the sharp lines in the pavement but I can’t really see to get off them ‘cause my punched nose is making my eyes blind like Callum who has got peg number three. I get my feet on the pavement as quick as I can but I keep scrunched in a little ball and flat my fringe with my hands so the girls won’t see me good to punch me again. They’re all still laughing so I think they will punch me again. I shout the next number really loud to make everything alright. "Thirty-one, get up and run." And then I’m running and I don’t really feel the sharp lines in my feet because all the pain has gone to my nose.

There’s lots of people in the bus shelter and I know I haven’t missed my bus because there are still the same people waiting that get my bus every Thursday. The running has made me not want to stand still, so I walk up and down in the bus shelter but there’s too many people so I have to squeeze past them all the time. One man is looking at me a lot. I think it means I have to talk to him because Karen says it’s polite to talk to people when they take an interest in you. So I say, "what’s your age?" I don’t think he hears me because he just makes his head go the other way. I think he must be looking for his bus. So I say to the next person, "what’s your age?" She looks for her bus too but the little girl beside her says, "I’m eleven. How about you?" Ooh, I like number eleven so much. It’s my favourite number of all. I wished I could have had number eleven for my peg but Karen says we can only have six pegs because only six of us live in the house. I’m glad the little girl is number eleven so I tell her it in the fun way, "legs eleven." And then I remember she asked me my age and I tell her that in the fun way too, "I’m getting plenty." The woman next to the girl makes a funny noise and puts her arm round the girl and pulls her out of the bus shelter. Some other people in the bus shelter are looking at me funny and I think they might punch me so I flat my fringe down and look to see if my bus is coming. And it is so I shout, "fifty eight, make them wait." And I rush up to the front of the bus shelter where the bus opens its doors and I’m so excited I shout it again, "fifty eight, make them wait."

Lots of people are coming into the bingo hall the same time as me. I have to get a seat before the first game starts. I see Ina across the hall standing and waving a big wobbly arm at me and I know she’ll have kept me a seat so I try to get there as quick as I can. Everyone at the table is smiling and saying "hello David." Ina helps me take my jacket off ‘cause I’ve got my bingo cards in my hand and she says, "we’ve left a big space on the table for you. How many cards are you playing the’ night?" I like Ina so I tell her in the fun way, "one fat lady." Ina laughs and says, "only eight?" I say, "more later." Ina smiles and nods to the teapot and cups in the middle of the table and says, "fancy a wee number three before the game gets started?" I smile and nod. Ina pours nice tea. Then I push my fringe out my eyes so I can see my cards good when they start to call the numbers.

Other Places to Find Her

short film: Roberta Darling’s Recipe for Success (2008, Edinburgh 48 Hour Film Festival) vox-pop: a vox-pop video on climate change (2008)

Followed By

Angela Jackson

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