Episode 14

When no one was home, Mother would fasten on my

roller skates and I would push her round the flat, she

balancing herself with the sweeping brush.

I learned a lot about her body as I grew taller. She had

soft calves, muscular thighs and a corset. By the time

my hands were level with the top of her corset, the fun

had palled and we stopped by tacit agreement.

Initially it was very difficult to get any momentum –

she was a fleshy woman – so she’d bend over and undo

the straps, I’d push the skates, she’d jump back on and

fasten the straps while the skates were in motion –

goodness knows how she kept her balance – and we’d set

off down the hall, into the big room, round the table and

back out, down to the kitchen, round the table and so

on, till I was sweating, and Mother collapsed into a

chair or on to the floor in hysterics.

She’d have put the kettle on before we started, so that a

cup of tea was soon ready with a home-made biscuit.

You can imagine my astonishment, when, as a young

man, I went dancing, and my right hand discovered that

the corset was not a universal garment, and that women’s

flesh was not like custard, to be bound in else it would

all fall out.

Taken from Ivor Cutler’s ‘Glasgow Dreamer’, illustrations by Martin Honeysett. £6.99 in Methuen paperback.

Last revised: 20/02/02