Pastina and Petrol Money

"Ah didnae mean it, babe. It came oot a' wrang... Babe?"

Ah replayed the conversation in ma heid at least a dozen times that night.

It was oor first major row since we had become a serious couple. One o' those rows Ah wis sure we could resolve if we spoke the following morning.

One o' those rows cut short due tae her smartphone battery, when the anger had been bubbling away an' reached boiling point an' it slipped oot.

The problem wis when Ah woke the next morning, it wasnae just her battery had died; the television news coverage said everyone had the same problem. The phones had stopped working.

Naebody seemed tae know who had done it or why, tho the usual suspects were bandied around by different people as suspects. Russia, Anonymous, Extinction Rebellion, China, an' even the United States were considered viable perpetrators.

We had been together for six months an' whenever we fell oot we'd resolve things the next day. Whoever wis in the wrang or, more often than not, whoever decided tae fall on their ain sword would say sorry first an' we'd make peace.

As Ah sat there listening tae various people talk tae reporters an' in-studio tae the main presenters on the news, for the first time it felt like this wisno going tae be quickly resolved. All Ah had wis a dead, cold, an' suddenly very heavy piece o' glass an' plastic or whatever the fuck they make phones oot o' these days.

Ah wisnae sure whit the hell Ah wis going tae do, an' apparently the universe had decided tae be unattainable at the time Ah needed it most an' no forthcoming wae suggestions for solutions. Fuck you, universe.

Ah poured some cereal—Ah needed comfort food—an' sat back doon. No sooner had Ah clunked the spoon between ma teeth an' sipped at some artificial, ultra-sweet chocolatey milk than there wis a knock at the door.

"Son. Did ye see whit happened tae the phones? Global crisis they're saying, like COVID or wartime. Yer sister's doing ma heid in, she can't access onything. Nae Facebook, nae Instagram. Ah had tae go physically tae ma bank this morning like the auld days o' the 90s."

She barged straight in. Ma maw. Ah listened tae her stream as Ah stood for a second looking oot intae the street, where people were oot an' aboot discussing an' gossiping aboot the crisis.

There wis an appropriately dramatic bit o' Scotch mist hanging above oor heids as a cheeky reminder o' the apocalypse every wanker frae here tae Timbuktu wis expecting.

Ah rolled ma eyes an' shut the door tae join ma maw in the living room.

"Oh, maw, yeah Ah saw the news. Couldnae have happened at a worse time."

"Have you an' Sonia had a fall-oot again? Ah'm sorry, son, but ye'll make up in soon enough time. Ah'm going tae see yer Nonna, ye should come alang. She'll love tae see you."

"Ah'm no sure, maw. Whit if the phones come back on an' Ah'm no here tae speak tae Sonia?"

Ah knew deep doon there wisnae ony point arguing ma case. Besides, Ah wis just glad she didnae complain aboot the strong odour emanating frae the ashtrays strewn aroon the room.

"Take yer phone an' charger wae ye. Better than sitting aroon here moping aboot."

"Fine."

Ah quickly ate the cereal an' slurped up the choco milk an' headed behind ma maw tae her car.

As Ah sat doon beside her, she had that smile on her face. That "Ah'm so proud of you, ma grown son, but you're a daft bastard" smile.

She didnae say that, of course.

"It'll be fine, William. You'll see!"

Ah didnae respond. Wis nae point.

When we got there, tae Nonna's auld red stone tenement flat, we were the first there. Which meant Ah could sit an' prepare maesel' before the troops arrived.

"Ciao, Nonna," Ah said, like Ah wis at her village. That wis, unfortunately, more or less the extent of ma understanding of ma ancestral language.

Ah leaned doon an' gave the best woman in the world the customary double cheek kiss, left an' right.

"How's Sonia, son?"

"They've had a row, Mamma."

Maw didnae even give me a chance tae answer for maesel'.

"Och, she's a good lass, she'll come aroon."

Well, Ah guess that's settled. The two most important women in ma life think it'll be fine wae nae context, so Ah should just sit an' relax while Ah enjoy the global meltdown of Vodafone, Verizon and LG.

Crisis averted. Not.

"It smells great," Ah said, after being badgered by ma maw tae comment.

"Ah. Non sono sicuro. Ah think the pastina needs more stock cubes. Taste it, and tell me, Isa."

Slurping ensued as Ah sat at the table in the dining room. The same table Ah had sat at almost every week since Ah can remember.

"When are the others coming, Mamma?"

"Ah spoke tae yer sister earlier. She's driving aroon the rest, tae tell them aboot dinner."

"It's a bloody nightmare wae nae smartphones."

"Well, we used tae get by withoot them. Twa world wars, Ah raised all seven o' you meaniacs withoot a smartphone."

The familiar tone of the handset connected tae the tenement intercom sounded.

"William, can ye go an' get that? It'll be yer aunty or yer sister."

Ah picked up the handset.

"Oh ma god, bro, it's pure mayhem. Can ye let me in?"

As if Ah wisnae gonna let her in. Even if Ah considered doing just that for a second before pressing the button an' opening the front door. Preparing maesel' mentally for the onslaught.

"Maw told me aboot Sonia, are ye awrite?" She launched up tae hug me as she stepped through the door, wae nae chance tae respond. "She'll come aroon."

Apparently all the women in ma life know it better than Ah do.

As we walked through, she bellowed tae the other two.

"That smells gorgeous, Nonna!"

"Ciao, Elena," Nonna said as she reached up tae give ma sister a cuddle an' the auld double cheek kiss. Tap tap, one-two jab.

"William, it's pure mental, isn't it?"

Ah knew whit she wis referring tae, but.

"All the phones no working properly. Ah cannae check ma Facebook, Instagram, or even TikToks."

"Ah know..."

"Whit am Ah doin? When you're struggling aboot you an' Sonia having a row an' Ah'm worried aboot TikTok. Sorry, bro."

"It'll be okay, really."

"Shitebook, mannaggia, good riddance. Whit a lot o' rubbish."

An' that sums up Nonna's view o' the internet in twa short statements.

"Stupid blocks o' nothing. Everything is all internet this, internet that. People love the internet."

"Mamma, we know. But you liked us checking which o' yer favourite auld actors are still alive."

"Oh yes, who wis that man wae the chin?"

"Clark Gable?"

"No him, William. Check yer phone."

"We cannae dae that, mind, Nonna? Ah think you mean Cary Grant. From North By Northwest."

"Aye, that's the man. Handsome. Married like ten times or something."

"Oh ma god, ten times! That's mental."

"Don't worry, sis, Ah think it wis more like five."

"Still. Five times married. Whit wis he doing?"

Ah didnae have an answer. Ah didnae give a shit why auld Archie Leach had trouble keeping women when Ah had ma ain disaster wae the only ane Ah wanted.

Ah took maesel' tae the bathroom tae hide. Ah did genuinely need tae shit, like, but Ah also needed a wee bit o' space afore onyone else showed up.

Ah looked at the last message exchange between me an' Sonia.

The connection wis gone, but that last chat that led tae the biggest row they had ever had since they got together filled the screen as a damning indictment of no just me as her boyfriend, but me as a person.

Despite being sat at the far end o' the bathroom on the porcelain throne, Ah could still hear a wee bit o' the chatter.

"He's clearly distraught, Mamma. Whit can Ah say?"

"Well, Isa, they either want tae be a couple or no. It's no rocket science."

"Oh ma god, Nonna, whit are ye like?"

Elena, ever the drama queen. Still, the familiarity wis helping tae take ma mind aff onything else.

The flat intercom sounded again.

"Ah'll get it, Nonna. Is it gonnae be James an' Trina or ane o' the others?"

"Just answer the bloody door, maniac!"

Tae an outsider, Nonna would probably seem like a harsh woman, an' impatient. Her words could be curt, an' danced that fine line between genuinely cruel an' caring. But she wis as multifaceted a woman, a human, as ony Ah had ever met. Ye need tae mind that she emigrated tae Glasgow from a small Italian village an' wis thrust intae a new cultural experience. Nonno wis a quiet, shy man, an' Nonna wis a barnstorming matriarch. Cos she had tae be that. She had twa sons, an' four girls. She loves everyone an' is kinder an' more patient than an innocent bystander would realise.

Plus, ma sister, like all wee siblings, could be annoying.

God love her.

"Awww, hullo, Aunty Trina an' Uncle James!"

Trina wis the baby o' the family, Nonna's youngest, an' James wis her Scottish husband. He wis a warm an' funny guy wae a beard that had stood the test o' time. He wis rocking that beard when it wisnae fashionable.

"Ciao, Filomena."

"Ciao, Mamma."

Ah could hear them enter. Ah flushed an' washed ma hands. Ah could have stayed hidden for hours, but it'd only prompt Nonna tae ask Elena or ma maw tae check if Ah had fallen doon the toilet.

Opening the door, the strong scent of baked egg goodness that wis Nonna's impressive thirty-three-egg omelette mingled in the air wae the chicken stock cubes.

The sound of laughter filled the atmosphere. That's whit Ah luve aboot this place. The warmth. It could be seen on the colourful decor, heard in the sound of a family that had been through so much together, smelt in the belly-comforting food, an' felt on yer skin as it permeated through tae the epidermis tae the deepest parts o' yer body.

"Ciao, everyone!"

Ah walked in an' the onslaught happened as expected. It wisnae half as bad as Ah always managed tae make it in ma heid, though. Family is family, an' family that actually cares is something ye should grasp at an' never let go. Ah just got more an' more uncomfortable in ma ain skin, wae ma ain mind fucking wae how Ah saw things, an' Ah didnae ken how tae balance that oot.

As Nonna an' Maw took turns serving up the pastina, Nonna would ask the same fussy host questions.

"Do ye need a bit of cold water, it might be still too hot?"

"Do ye want more cheese?"

"Do ye want more bread?"

After we'd finished one bowl, we were asked the obligatory, "Have some more, there's plenty there."

An' when it wis time for the omelette, the usual questions were asked.

"Do ye want more bread?"

"Is that enough salad?"

"There's more prosciutto in the fridge and maybe some salami."

The world could be going tae war an' burning, but Nonna would still be more concerned wae her guests having full-to-bursting bellies. It's funny how quickly in this situation ye forget aboot troubles until...

"It's a load of nonsense. Apple this, Android that. Good riddance I say. Stops you lot from looking at your phones all the time." Nonna ranted, directing the last bit at Elena, because of course she did.

She wasnae wrong either. Countless times she had threatened tae put oor cousins', the other grandkids', phones under her feet or oot the window.

"But how will you find out if Cary Grant is still alive or if that half-heidit guy from Star Trek is still with us?" Elena laughed.

"Mannaggia!"

We were sitting after having had several bowls of pastina, when Uncle James asked me if Ah wis alright. Ah said aye.

"Are ye, tho?" he said wae concern.

"Ah just worry she will change her mind aboot me, seeing as we cannae hash it oot."

"That might be true, but maybe she's thinking the same thing. Sonia's a lovely lass. She even made ma 'diet water' joke last time she visited Scotland."

"Aye, an' did she no tell ye she wis on the seafood diet?" Ah piped up, remembering Sonia's cheeky little smile at dropping a tried an' tested family joke.

"Aye, she did. The phones being doon is definitely pish. But, you remember times before the era of smartphones, WhatsApp, an' Shitebook—" he stole that last one from Nonna, "—so whit would ye have done had ye had a row before contact wis made so easy?"

"Ah'd have probably got on a train tae London."

"Good lad."

Ma focus shifted, an' the weight Ah had been carrying on ma shoulders suddenly flitted aff ma body completely.

"Maw, Ah need yer help..."

"Whit is it?"

She said aye tae driving me tae London, as lang as we took as many breaks as she needed an' Ah paid for the petrol. Ah thought it wis a fair deal.

The car had an obnoxious smell o' auld mints an' Werther's Originals that wis flung intae ma face by the loud heater that wis blasting oot artificial air. As it flapped the nausea-prompting air freshener shaped like a pine tree, Ah wis already feeling like throwing everything oot the car. But Ah composed maesel'.

We had just passed the border sign of "Welcome to England" when ma maw asked, "William, whit if she doesnae want tae make up wae ye?"

"If she doesnae, it'll be hard, but Ah'll have tae accept it. Whit Ah cannae accept is nailing the coffin shut waeoot even trying!"

While there wis a part of me that believed it'd all be alright when we were face-to-face, the less confident side of me wis worried that ma maw wis right. But nothing ventured, nothing gained, an' Ah couldn't go back tae ma hoose no kennin' whether we were still a couple or no.

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: So, yes I did write a romance story that is also heavily a homage love letter to my family, particularly my mother's Scottish Italian side. While I changed most names as it's a fictional account I kept my Nonna's name the same.

Glossary

Meaniacs - a portmanteau that my Nonna invented that comprises of meanies and maniacs. She used that to describe her unruly lot of grandkids.

Manneggia - is an Italian expression used to share the same sentiments as phrases like "damn" and "for goodness sake"

Seefood diet and diet water were things my Uncle Tony used to joke about almost every time. 

So many of the little details are accurate, some things are exaggerated. But it is my homage, tribute and love letter to my late, great one of a kind, Nonna and family.