www.ATIBOOK.irFiction 111<strong>the</strong>y take up an equally huge proportion of Melanie’s private thoughts. The writerintroduces a gap between what Melanie does, and what is really significant in her life.We know she’s avoiding several sources of pain; among <strong>the</strong> harshest is her mo<strong>the</strong>r’sdeath. At moments her thoughts take a direction Melanie would probably have resisted,which is why Jackie Kay needs third-person narration for this story—to take us where <strong>the</strong>character herself won’t go. Kay, whose ethnic background is part Nigerian, has chosen acharacter of mixed race, and this is ano<strong>the</strong>r potently troublesome note:Her mo<strong>the</strong>r was from Ireland, County Mayo, and her fa<strong>the</strong>r was fromTrinidad and when she looked in <strong>the</strong> mirror, <strong>the</strong> pair of <strong>the</strong>m were behindher, mixing <strong>the</strong>mselves up in her face. [Her mo<strong>the</strong>r’s teeth] had filled herwith a nameless worry. A feeling of everything not being right in <strong>the</strong>world. A sense of unease. So that now <strong>the</strong> two were mixed up in her mind:her mo<strong>the</strong>r’s stained teeth and her mo<strong>the</strong>r’s dark death.(Ibid: 68–9)Such excursions into her family past intensify our interest in this troubled character,while not quite fully arousing our sympathy, for Melanie’s brittle determination to avoid<strong>the</strong> past trivialises a dull existence where she only functions as a consumer. Stories, as weknow, usually begin with a trigger event, an inciting incident causing time to be shapedin a new way, and in Melanie’s case this happens when she unexpectedly receives a letterwhich turns out to be from her fa<strong>the</strong>r.‘She read somewhere that people who manage time well suffer less stress’, and time in<strong>the</strong> story moves us through points in her routine day—from early shopping in a Hackneystreet market, to her office job. Here we have <strong>the</strong> only inclusion of dialogue—she withsome clients and <strong>the</strong>n with her female colleagues—but again <strong>the</strong> details are <strong>the</strong>re to showus Melanie-type attitudes as <strong>the</strong>y ordinarily recur. She, of course, relishes thisordinariness herself, occasionally spicing it with a treat, and trout on Friday will be <strong>the</strong>meal she cooks and eats alone at <strong>the</strong> end of each week. However, this particular Fridaywill be different. On <strong>the</strong> table as she cooks her trout <strong>the</strong> letter lies unopened and at thispoint she doesn’t know (nor do we) who it’s from. After performing her elaboratecooking ritual, (we hear about this in lavish detail) she opens it as she eats. It’s from herfa<strong>the</strong>r who left home when she was four years old—she hasn’t seen or heard of himsince—and who is living not in Trinidad as she imagined but some streets away, inTottenham:The letter said he was sorry to hear her mo<strong>the</strong>r had died. Only just heard!Yet <strong>the</strong> news was four years old. He said he wanted to meet her and seewhat she had turned into and maybe she could cook him a nice meal.Melanie clapped her hands. ‘Oh that’s rich,’ she said aloud. ‘That’s reallyrich.’ She opened up her silver foil parcel. She was determined not to let<strong>the</strong> letter spoil her trout. She slid it out of <strong>the</strong> foil carefully and onto herplate. It was perfect, silver and pink and blue…. ‘Take a running jump’she said, as she thoughtfully tasted her tomato and chilli salad.(Ibid: 80)
www.ATIBOOK.irThe <strong>routledge</strong> <strong>creative</strong> <strong>writing</strong> <strong>coursebook</strong> 112Her thoughts at this point are decisive, unrelenting:She took her last bit of trout. She struggled for a minute trying to imagineher fa<strong>the</strong>r sitting opposite her eating dinner with her. Would he mind herhaving a glass of wine? In a way, <strong>the</strong> picture of Melanie and her fa<strong>the</strong>r atdinner was quite romantic, but something made her shudder Somethingrepelled her It was too late, somehow, to have dinner with her fa<strong>the</strong>r‘Nah’, Melanie said to herself. Leave him like that Leave it out.’ Shepoured herself ano<strong>the</strong>r glass of white wine. It was crisp, cold, elegant Shetried to think of more wine words she had read. Fruity. Buttery. Bold.(Ibid: 80)This is how Jackie Kay ends her story. The trout and letter both have a meaning, each isattached to a separate series of events, and toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y compete for Melanie’s attention.But we as readers participate in <strong>the</strong> making of meaning here. Does <strong>the</strong> letter stand forcontact, warmth, restoration, or for deception and betrayal? The words of <strong>the</strong> storydeliver both options to us. And with <strong>the</strong> trout—does this suggest a trivial consumerism,spoilage (‘A few bones stuck to <strong>the</strong> flesh. She picked <strong>the</strong>m off one by one’) or does itsignify Melanie’s boldness, feminine independence, her ability to spoil herself, and whynot? Not just at <strong>the</strong> end, but all through, we’ve been drawn into <strong>the</strong> story, not into aposition of abstract judgement.This summary leaves out o<strong>the</strong>r successful effects: <strong>the</strong> travel agent’s desk view ofresorts, given in a exotic lists, along with <strong>the</strong> way people plan holidays and why; <strong>the</strong>more personal issue of global distance (Trinidad, Tottenham); <strong>the</strong> sense of <strong>the</strong>contemporary—family life and death, gender and independence, mixed-race origin,consumerism; <strong>the</strong> reader’s sense of Melanie’s voice through a third-person narrator. Butmost important of all from <strong>the</strong> viewpoint of <strong>writing</strong> is how <strong>the</strong> shaping of time in <strong>the</strong>story relates to its distribution of detail. The character—Melanie herself—seems to be <strong>the</strong>decisive factor here. We are, for its duration, in her consciousness. She is <strong>the</strong> focaliser,thus time appears to us as it does to her. Time reaches back to her earliest memory of herfa<strong>the</strong>r, to her happy relationship with her mo<strong>the</strong>r. The fa<strong>the</strong>r of <strong>the</strong> child she lost isreferred to cursorily only once. The largest part of <strong>the</strong> narrative represents <strong>the</strong>sememories and <strong>the</strong> events of a typical week, <strong>the</strong>n a typical day in <strong>the</strong> life of Melanie. ‘Shethought of her fa<strong>the</strong>r, once a month, on stuff-your-face Sunday because that was <strong>the</strong> dayher mo<strong>the</strong>r told her he had left.’ From years, months, weeks and days, as <strong>the</strong> story movesforward <strong>the</strong>se time periods get shorter, so that in <strong>the</strong> concluding section we hear aboutonly <strong>the</strong> trout and <strong>the</strong> letter, finally <strong>the</strong> wine, <strong>the</strong>n nothing. These periods form <strong>the</strong> firstsentences of paragraphs: ‘Every Friday she bought a fresh trout at Ridley Road market, in<strong>the</strong> morning before work… She came home with her fresh trout in her bag… Now to <strong>the</strong>tomato and chilli salad.’ Remembering <strong>the</strong> longer, earlier time periods meaning iscompressed into one or two details: her fa<strong>the</strong>r’s hands, her mo<strong>the</strong>r’s teeth, <strong>the</strong> behaviourof customers. These details figure more as images than as re-creation. In <strong>the</strong> shortestperiod of all—<strong>the</strong> forty-five minutes or <strong>the</strong>reabouts which it takes to prepare, cook andeat an average-sized trout—meaning develops through moment-by-moment realisation ofconsiderable amounts of close-up detail. From entering her flat to <strong>the</strong> second glass of